


Fixated On One Star

by alivingfire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Again sort of, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, OT5 Friendship, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Simon Oli and Calvin are the bad guys, Star-crossed, Stars, Superpowers, brief mentions of illness, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alivingfire/pseuds/alivingfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.</p><p> </p><p>Or: space Romeo and Juliet, minus all the suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixated On One Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ln_2014](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ln_2014/gifts).



> Thanks to Ln_2014 for the prompts! You asked for weird, I hope this works. And thanks to my magnificent beta [louisfringe](http://louisfringe.tumblr.com/), who stopped me from many a ridiculously winding sentence. You're a peach.
> 
>  
> 
> This was meant to be a nice 10k fic and it spiraled into _this_ , proving yet again that I cannot contain myself to a word count no matter how hard I try. The links in the story are what I used for inspiration.
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>  
> 
> Each of the different planets' cultures is based on a real one with a few minor alterations, and no offense is meant to these cultures and languages. They are meant to be frameworks, just so I didn't have to create eight brand new cultures out of thin air. If anything is glaringly wrong, please let me know and I will attempt to fix it. More about this and why I chose the cultures I did will be in the author's note at the end. 
> 
>  
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> Title comes from Fall Out Boy's 7 Minutes in Heaven.
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>  
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> **[Now available in Russian!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/4179048) **

_Greetings Louis Tomlinson,_

_We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Alliance Galactic Academy as a representative for your planet. You, along with three of your peers, will travel to the Academy for three months, completing a full-circuit of classes and trainings intended to enhance your knowledge of the Alliance and to strengthen bonds between Alliance planets. You and your companions will be given material in order to create and teach your own class as well, and it is suggested that you read over the material before arriving at the Academy._

_Attached is a list of recommended items to bring, though food and housing will be provided. Your shuttle ticket and flight information are also attached._

_Congratulations!_

_Adél Horn_  
_Komenstelle High Directorate_

☆

Louis has never really thought of himself as the galaxy-traversing type. He likes his life on Blue, likes spending time with his family and his mates at Komenstelle Institute. He likes his classes and he's prepared for the job lined up for him when he graduates. He really only applied to the Academy on a whim, assuming that there was such a small chance of him being chosen that he wouldn't actually have to face the consequences of  leaving his life on Blue behind.

Louis reads the letter again. It's a waste of time, right? It's three months spent making nice with kids from other planets that he'll never see again when he could be settling into his job at Syco Industries, learning the ropes before he’s expected to churn out a new device or gadget every year to make consumers’ lives easier. _That's_ what he's trained for, not intergalactic tea parties or whatever the hell goes on there.

He shouldn't spend a full night laying awake and thinking about what it would be like to go, watching the outer arms of the Nebula spin outside his moonroof. He shouldn't. It's stupid.

He shouldn't mention the possibility to his mum, because she'll just get all teary about him growing up and saving the galaxy. The galaxy doesn't need saving, it needs faster technological updates at cheaper prices. He can't go live in space for three months. It's a bad idea.

He shouldn't tell Stan he got accepted to the Academy. He shouldn't feel a thrill in his stomach when Stan whoops and tells Louis he was accepted, too.

Louis shouldn't start subconsciously planning for a trip to space, he should inform the Directorate that he can't go, so they can find someone to replace him. He can’t spend three months gallivanting around space school with his best friend, he’s got a life and a job to consider. It’s still a bad idea.

He shouldn't set up a meeting with his mentor to tell him he's considering going to the Academy. And he definitely shouldn't prickle with anger when Simon laughs, his eyes hard.

"What a stupid idea," Simon says.

Louis shouldn't bristle, shouldn’t narrow his eyes and tilt his head and let his irritation get the best of him.

But he does.

"I'm going," he says stubbornly, and it shouldn't be so exhilarating to break the mold but it _is_ ; engineers don’t ever get to go to the Academy, but this one does. His heart is racing, his hands sweating, his smile massive as he leaves a dumbfounded Simon behind.

Louis shouldn’t be so excited to break out of his everyday routine and maybe _live_ a little, but he is.

☆

Simon says he’ll give Louis a few days to come to his senses and realize that he’s wasting his time even considering going to the Academy. The three days pass and they only make Louis’ yearning to leave grow stronger; he and his mum and Stan spend hours poring over the information about the Academy that they’d been sent, reading stories from previous delegates and wondering what kind of interesting people they’ll get to meet.

“So you’re set in this plan?” Simon asks when he calls, his voice cool over the comm unit.

“Yes,” Louis replies staunchly, voice only shaking a little. He’s usually Simon’s golden boy, the one with the quick hands and the sharp mind, the one who can take Simon’s ideas and carry them to completion better than he’d imagined in the first place. But Louis has made up his mind, and he won’t budge. He _is_ going to the Academy, and Simon’s disapproval won’t stop him.

It’s three months of his life before he dedicates the rest of it to Simon and Syco; Simon can give him this.

There is a heavy sigh on Simon’s end of the comm. “Well, if you’re going to waste your time at the Academy, we’re at least going to get something out of it. Be at my office tomorrow, we’ve got training to do.”

☆

There are eight planets that make up the Alliance. Louis knows this; he can name them in the Common Tongue and he knows the eight original planet names and he can recite facts about the societies and cultures on each and how they contribute to the economy of his own planet. The Alliance History classes at the Institute were his favorite until they stopped offering them, and they talked about the Academy extensively; he felt, at least before he got here, that he knew what he was getting himself into.

He didn’t have a clue; he probably couldn’t have ever imagined something like this.

Louis watches the delegates from the seven other planets disembark from their shuttles on the loading dock, his face pressed to the window. There are dozens of people milling around below him, some in standard space travel gear and some in styles of clothing Louis has never seen before. It’s a whirlwind of shiny and interesting and new—Louis _loves_ new stuff, likes to poke at it ‘til he understands it, likes to dismantle things until he can put them back together again. He itches to join the crowd and immerse himself in the newness, but Calvin is rolling his eyes and refusing to get out of his seat, thumbing idly through the games on his comm unit.

“We’ll leave when the crowd clears,” he says loudly and pointedly to Louis, his nose wrinkled like he can smell the people from other planets from here.

Louis stays at the window, taking in all the little details of life on other planets that he’d never imagined or understood when he read about them in his history books.

Right before their shuttle had launched, when Louis was strapped into his seat between Stan and Oli for takeoff and it was too late to change his mind, Louis wondered if he was setting himself up for disappointment. Maybe he’d overestimated the Academy, maybe it’s not as great as everyone says. Maybe he’s taking three months he can’t spare away from his job in the most competitive industry on the most cutthroat planet in the galaxy for no reason.

Louis watches a group of people alight from the nearest shuttle, their bags made of colorful woven material and their clothing flashy and elegant, each outfit spun from and accented with glittering golden thread. Louis wonders where they’re from, what planet produces those kinds of gorgeous faces. He sees a group of giggling girls in soft, comfy looking clothing, whispering to each other behind their hands. He sees a head of blonde hair bouncing through it all, like a puppy trying to see everything all at once. Louis burns with curiosity, his fingers itching to go and learn and explore, to ask the thousand questions bubbling inside him.

So no, he thinks. Even just from his view through the shuttle window, it doesn’t look like the Academy will be a disappointment after all.

☆ 

The Academy's welcome dinner is a large, sprawling affair: five courses of food spread out over a massive round table, each planet represented in traditional food and desserts. Louis is used to the nutri-packs the average people of Blue eat twice a day, each serving half the day's recommended dose of vitamins and minerals in a small, artificially flavored pack. True food is expensive and rare—Louis got cake once for his eighteenth birthday, but that had been his only gift that year because it had cost so much. The spread of delicacies in front of him is almost excessive; where is a person even supposed to _start?_

Stan looks like he's suffering from the same dilemma, and Calvin and Oli are practically drooling over the spread.

Louis tries everything. There's some sort of spicy meat that leaves his tongue burning (curry, the sign says) and a noodle dish that Louis almost can't pull himself away from (macaroni and cheese). There's heavy stew and loaves of thick, warm bread and meat and bread together in something called a _burger_ and though Louis' stomach protests he can't help but accept every new food passed his way. He tries a couple of dishes only to learn they're actually from his own planet, some type of meat called bratwurst and a potato dish that reminds him of the salty versions of the nutri-packs back home. He even samples the fruit tray, biting into berries that are sweet and wonderfully juicy, bursts of crisp flavor on his tongue.  

Calvin snickers when that particular tray gets passed his direction, though, holding up something orangey-yellow and scoffing. "One guess which planet brought this, eh?" He laughs. "Stupid Greenies, trying to make everyone eat rabbit food."

Louis wouldn't mind eating rabbit food if he got to keep eating whatever these small red berries are. Also, he's pretty sure Calvin doesn't even know what rabbits _are_ , since they don’t have any animals on Blue anymore. Maybe rabbits are carnivores and eat some of that yummy meat he tried earlier, steak and pork chops. Calvin is a moron, he doesn't know.

Still, Louis knows better than to go pointing that out. Calvin's place in the Academy had been decided years ago, and he’s here with the blessing of his mentor rather than here in spite of his mentor’s best attempts at keeping him back home. Louis knows the hierarchy of their group, and he's not going to start things off on the wrong foot the very first night by calling Calvin stupid.

(Even if he _really_ wants to.)

Louis eats until he's sick and then eats some more. He tries something cool and creamy that a girl from Pink passes him with a label on it reading _ice cream_ , and after one bite considers proposing to her for passing it his way. When he tells her this, she throws back her head and laughs.  

"Perrie," she says, sticking out her hand in the common Alliance greeting. Louis shakes it.

"Louis," he grins. "You're from Pink, I assume?"

Perrie laughs again, her teeth gleaming in the low light. “How’d you know?”

Louis and Stan had discovered in their information binge before leaving Blue that people tend to dress in the colors associated with their home planet for the first few weeks at the Academy, at least until faces become familiar. It doesn’t really apply to _them_ , because students on Blue tend to wear the same thing every day and none of it is actually a shade of blue; right now they’re in the all-black uniforms they wore to the Komenstelle Institute their final year there, the exact same thing worn by Calvin and Oli as well. It definitely seems to be holding true for the other planet groups, though, the circular table like a color wheel of eight distinctive sections.

Perrie and the three girls next to her are in [all pink](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Pjm0yXkHwU/UoKpJGyHFQI/AAAAAAAAA44/5Ldz-5LIp_k/s1600/nicki_minaj_all_pink_outfit_cu.jpg) from their heads of bubblegum-colored [hair](http://cdn22.picsart.com/140363033001202.png) to their pointed magenta shoes. Next to them is a beautiful boy in a subtly glittered white and gold [sherwani](http://www.samyakk.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/1200x1800/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/s/h/sh153.jpg), an unnatural gold flash in his eyes and a blonde streak up the front of his high quiff. Further down the table is another boy with brightly colored blonde hair and an even brighter laugh, wearing a simple orange [sweater](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/A2OiwWdCAAIo9m0.jpg), thick, faded blue trousers with little holes in the knees, and a bright green bracelet. He’s talking to a guy wearing [fur](http://www.iaparticles.com/jackets-outer/rhvsdf34ggv11wa22o7ra51717ao3x); at least, Louis thinks it’s fur, he’s never really seen an animal in person but it looks like the descriptions of fur he’s read about in books. The boy in fur has to have come from either Red or Gray, one of those northern planets that stays cold all year, but his grin is sunshiney and his eyes crinkle when he laughs at the blonde boy’s jokes.

Louis absorbs it all, this conglomeration of cultures and accents and brightly colored clothing. Then someone moves, the crowd around the table shifts, and Louis sees him:

A boy in [green](http://41.media.tumblr.com/1c4eeee33747646b6be3938c37d6d9df/tumblr_nw80a0h1Ri1rgxudyo1_r1_500.png).

☾

Harry Styles has seen blossoming fields of flowers stretch to the horizon and ripple with the wind, he’s seen swaths of starlight so bright they lit the night up like it was day, hidden meadows and tranquil glens and lakes so still the water is like glass. He’s seen beautiful faces made captivating in flickering firelight, etched with laughter, dignified in ritual. He knows beauty like he knows air, like he knows light; he lives in it, grows it, creates it. Harry had thought he’d seen everything that could take his breath away.

None of that compares to the owner of the blue-green-blue eyes that catch Harry’s across the table and pin him in place. Harry feels exposed, flayed open. His mouth parts unconsciously on a tiny _oh_ he never meant to vocalize. His heartbeat must be visible against his ribs, the poor organ overworked as he holds his stare and his pulse starts pounding double-time.

The boy is small, compact, so different from the people on Harry’s planet. He’s got soft honey hair and caramel-kissed skin, and those blue, _blue_ eyes that will tint Harry’s dreams cerulean forever.

Harry wants to know him, wants to hear him speak and watch the way his mouth moves. He’s fascinated by the black [uniform](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HHKF1ilCyyA/UnHOynr24iI/AAAAAAAABGI/kxfgXWBVo0g/s1600/pugh1.jpg) fitting against his curvy waist and stretched across his chest; it’s almost military-like, some sort of shifting leather jumpsuit with a small blue crest right above the boy’s heart. It’s exactly the same uniform worn by the other three boys sitting next to him, but—the boy stands to reach for a dish and Harry’s mouth goes dry because, _hell_ , those others don’t have thick thighs that the leather wraps lovingly around like a second skin, or delicate hands that contrast with the solid, tough material. He has an intricate [holster](http://40.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mbbtv6Mdrf1ri86fko2_1280.jpg) strapped to one of his legs, knee-high boots, a laugh brighter than sunshine, and he’s the most stunning sight in the galaxy.

“Whoops,” Liam says cheerfully next to Harry. He’s dragged the sleeve of his overcoat through the bowl of potatoes in front of them, the fox fur matted with food. It takes several moments of Liam jostling Harry for him to tear his gaze away from the blue-eyed boy and chuckle at Liam, who is frowning good-naturedly while patting at himself with a nearby napkin.

“Bad luck, mate,” Harry says. He glances back up; the boy is still staring. Harry’s skin prickles, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “Say, um, you haven’t met any new people yet, have you? Like from other planets?”

“Just Niall here,” Liam replies, thumbing over his shoulder at a blonde boy next to him who is now face-first in his pie and looking delighted about it. Harry hasn’t met Niall yet, but he thinks it’ll be an adventure when he does. Liam returns to cleaning his sleeve, not realizing the other is dragging into a bowl of stew each time he moves. “Haven’t had a chance to chat with anyone else. Why?”

“Oh,” Harry bites his lip. He shifts his shoulders a little, turning away from Jeff and Glenne on his left, both deep in a discussion over what type of cake they should try, and lowers his voice. “Um. So you don’t know who that guy is? Across the table?”

Liam is the most unsubtle person in the galaxy, so he whips his head up to take in the colorful group arrayed around them at the table, talking and laughing. Liam’s eyes go wide as he turns back around to look at Harry. “The one staring at you? Because no, I don’t know him.” Harry slumps, pulling at his lip. “But he definitely wants to know you.”

Harry groans, elbowing Liam as they both giggle into their piles of chips. Then—

“Oh _no_ ,” Liam pouts, holding up the trailing end of his sleeve, now also covered in stew and strawberry juice and something questionably purple.

Harry cackles and hears a high, raspy laugh from across the table join him. He looks up and catches the twinkly-eyed boy laughing at Liam’s pain, joy bright in his smile.

“Don’t even think about it, Harry,” Jeff murmurs on Harry’s right, and Harry jumps in surprise. “He’s from Blue.”

Harry’s heart drops.

☆

“I know that look,” Stan says, raising an eyebrow when Louis bites his lip and finally turns away from the prettiest boy he’s ever seen and his friend with the bad luck and the food-stained coat. “Who are you—oh, _Louis_.”

“I know, I know,” Louis huffs. “I wasn’t going to _do_ anything.”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You, Louis Tomlinson, weren’t going to do something you aren’t supposed to? Right. Don’t even think about it.” He lowers his voice, leaning away from Calvin and Oli. “We can’t associate with Greenies, you know that.”

It's not that people from Blue and Green _hate_ each other. None of the Alliance planets hate each other anymore, that was the whole point of the Alliance in the first place. The eight planets in the Upa Llnyte nebula system had been at war for ages, centuries and centuries of bloodshed over the smallest of things. Treaties and compromises were broken again and again, the planetary governments claiming they hadn't been given proper translations of the documents and so they didn't _know_ they were doing anything wrong.

A hospital on Red was bombed, thousands died, and the planets agreed the fighting had to stop; thus, the Alliance was founded. The Common Tongue language was created so there could be no more miscommunication, and the planets were even given Common Tongue names to make things easier—Komenstelle, Louis' home planet, was renamed Blue, and the rest of the planets were renamed to their Common Tongue coded colors as well.

In the five hundred years since, peace has reigned, though not without small escalations of conflict now and again to keep things interesting. The Alliance planets are close in proximity, but completely different when it comes to cultures, languages, and people. Soon, planets began making informal agreements of their own with their old allies from the war days, those agreements followed more closely than the actual Alliance treaty they were all bound to.

Blue, for instance, aligned itself with Yellow and Pink, two planets focused on manufacturing and technology and great trade partners. They avoid making deals with planets like Red, where they don’t have much use for the technology that Blue is known for.

All the planets are distinctly disparate of each other, but Green and Blue contrast the _most_ : in the spectrum of the Alliance, Blue and Green would be the ends of the line, the most extreme opposites. Blue prides itself on being the fastest growing society, always the first with scientific updates; the planet moves quickly, always changing, always evolving. Green, on the other hand, has proudly been the same for centuries. They are rigid in their old ways, unchanging as stone. From what Louis learned from his history classes, no one on Green wants to work or do anything difficult to update their culture, and they would all rather lay about singing and playing with their plants all day.  

So no, the people of Blue and Green don’t hate each other. The Yvgreen people consider the Bluetyps to be hasty and rash, more concerned with technological updates than doing what’s best for its people. The people of Blue think that Yvgreens are slow, afraid of change and unyielding. The planets can be civil when needed, but it would be considered treason by some on Louis’ planet to interact with them without having a good reason why. Calvin and Oli, Louis is very sure, are staunchly among that group.  

That doesn’t mean Louis can bring himself to look away from the Yvgreen boy with the bright laugh, the gentle curls, the faded pale green top tight across his broad shoulders.

Louis can’t speak to him, he knows this. If he was seen by Calvin or Oli, he could be reported to the Directorate and face punishment. He’d certainly be sent home, would probably lose his job at Syco as well. Is all that worth it, really, to talk to a pretty boy?

It’s a lot harder to answer that question than Louis expects.

☾

The first few days at the Academy are exactly like what Jeff and Glenne told Harry to expect; the welcome dinner is followed the next morning by a welcome breakfast, then a welcome meet and greet. The whole thing is a whirl of nametags and repetition of the same simple phrases over and over: _I’m Harry, I’m from Green, yes this is exciting, great to meet you as well._ The Academy directors—two men named Hackford and Jones—look on in delight as the forty-odd people from various Alliance planets make insipid small talk, and Jeff keeps sending Harry bored rolls of his eyes from across whatever room they find themselves in.

It’s been three days of this, and Harry knows he’s not the only one frustrated by the dull ice-breaker conversation starters orchestrated by Hackford and Jones, three minute intervals of awkward conversation and a loud buzzer that signals for them to switch and talk to someone else. The time limits to the conversations are heavily enforced—Harry meets a boy named Zayn from Yellow and they start discussing Zayn’s daisy-yellow sherwani (made by his aunt, apparently) and don’t hear the buzzer telling them to switch. Hackford himself comes over and separates them, pointing Zayn at someone who needs a new partner across the room and shoving Harry toward Leigh-Anne from Pink.

The thing is, the planet representatives are all adults with functioning minds who have all been holding conversations without Hackford and Jones’ help for years. It’s almost like the two men were given the job of making all the delegates interact and then, when they found out that would be easier than they thought, they decided to make everything much, much harder for themselves and institute conversation limits.

Either way, Harry is annoyed. He’s always preferred more organic interaction, and this speedy relationship building rankles. He doesn’t need conversation topics given to him when he’s got dozens of his own to choose from: he’s surrounded by a swirl of color and accents and strange gestures and greetings he’s never seen before and he yearns to learn it all.

The delegates get their first opportunity for an unscheduled, ice-breaker free night together on their third night at the Academy. They’re in one of the many ballrooms, a stately, ornate room filled with chatter and waiters bearing drink trays. Jeff and Glenne are already waiting for Harry at a table when he arrives, several nearly empty glasses in front of them.

“It’s champagne, Hazza,” Glenne explains in wide-eyed wonder, her voice floaty from the alcohol. “It’s from Pink, isn’t it amazing?”

It _is_ amazing, sweet and light on Harry’s tongue, so different from the heavy berry spirits back home. Harry has one glass, then another, and then Zayn is coming over to pull Harry out of his seat to mingle and Harry is stumbling after him, giggling.

“Nice hair,” Zayn grins, and Harry beams.

“Thanks! Grew it m’self.”

Zayn snorts. “No, idiot, I mean the flower.” He flicks the petal of the large white daffodil braided into Harry’s hair behind his ear.

“Oh,” Harry says. “Well, I grew that myself, too.”

Zayn laughs and shakes his head, apparently already comfortable enough with Harry to tease him. Harry’s good with that, because he’s wanted to make fun of Zayn’s unnecessarily bright choice of eye color— _yes, Zayn, we all know you’re a nanomorph, quit showing off_ —for days.

Zayn pulls Harry over to a very rosy-colored group of people, and Harry waves at Perrie, Jade, Jesy, and Leigh-Anne, all looking resplendent in [pale pink](https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-hh0TIt6MNP0/UnQP-h-28WI/AAAAAAAA0RE/4ZB9DYb5qqE/w1200-h1200/littlemixpinkpng.png). There’s a boy standing with them as well, Niall from Orange that Harry hasn’t had a chance to properly meet yet. He’s wearing a comfy-looking white sweater and sunset orange trousers, the same green bracelet around his wrist.

“Wahey,” he says, leaning over to shake Harry’s hand, “I’m Niall.” At the sound of Niall’s voice, Zayn’s eyes go deep, dark brown for a split second before switching back to their original bright gold.

Interesting.

The group falls into easy conversation, Niall willing and able to discuss his opinions on any topic, the bracelet on his wrist catching the light as he talks expansively with his hands. Liam joins them after a while, his crinkly-eyed smile bright and his [outfit](http://static1.squarespace.com/static/53dc2911e4b0c5bacb88f659/t/5404e249e4b0cf67d96e31d0/1409606220495/h.jpg?format=750w) surprising missing its usual fur trim, and Jade wanders off to talk to a group of boys from Gray. The champagne flows and Jesy and Leigh compliment Harry on his coat and flower, and Harry thinks this might be the best time he’s had since their shuttle landed here.

Then Perrie looks away and her eyes soften, bottom lip stuck out in a sympathetic pout for a moment. “Look how miserable they seem, poor doves.”

Harry’s gaze, along with the rest of the group’s, follows Perrie’s over to a table against the far wall. Four boys are seated around it, two of them deep into what looks to be their fifth glasses of champagne. The other two are watching the milling crowd with forlorn expressions, like they want to join in the party but have been told they can’t. One has his head rested against the table as though he’s given up on all hope of doing anything fun.

“I’m going to go rescue them,” Jesy says decisively, weaving her way through the crowd.

“That Calvin is awful,” Perrie stage whispers to the group as they watch Jesy walk away. “I was talking to Stan once and he came up and pulled him away, saying that they were here to work, not to make eyes at girls.”

“Oli is pretty awful too,” Leigh adds. “Though he apparently didn’t get the memo about not being here to meet girls. I thought I’d have to tape his nametag over his mouth if he hinted for me to go back to his room with him one more time.”

“Calvin told me my hair is stupid,” Niall says, a frown crossing his face for the first time. Zayn looks murderous.

“Louis and Stan are good lads, though,” Liam says, dismayed. Liam wants everyone to be happy all the time; it’s why he and Harry got along so easily the first time they met back on Harry’s planet.

Harry is fascinated; he hasn’t met any of these people, and their names aren’t even familiar. The group is too far away for him to recognize them from across the room, so Harry doesn’t know if he’s even ever seen them around.

Jesy apparently works her magic and gets this mysterious Calvin’s approval (and Harry thinks it has something to do with the way he looks Jesy up and down when her back is turned), and the two bored boys leap to their feet.

And Harry realizes he _has_ seen them before, there’s just a reason they haven’t met.

The boys from Blue are wearing similar outfits to the ones they had on at the welcome dinner, all black from head to foot. This particular uniform looks less military, that same leather material wrapped tight around them but [less structured](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/1e/b1/b0/1eb1b07c757ea7890a8885a8c861d89a.jpg), less like body armor.

The blue-eyed boy is even prettier up close. Harry loses his breath for a moment when their eyes meet, recognition blooming.

Niall introduces himself to the newcomers, grinning. “You two looked like you needed some rescuing.”

“You have no idea,” says the pretty one gratefully, and everyone laughs. “I think I’ve met everyone, except…”

“Lou,” the other boy cautions quietly, but the boys still tilts his head and steps forward. Harry feels the corner of his mouth curling up into a smile without his consent, and there’s an answering twinkle in the boy’s eyes.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he says. The rasp in his voice makes Harry shiver.

Harry reaches out his hand to shake Louis’, their fingers inches away. “I’m—”

“Harry!” Cara calls from their table. Harry flinches, withdraws his hand. He turns toward Cara with a tight smile.

“Yeah?”

“We’re heading back early,” she says, her eyes flickering toward Louis and his outstretched hand. The rest of the group is quiet as they watch the scene unfold, Liam biting his lip.

“ _You should probably come with us_ ,” Jeff says in Yvgreen, his voice cool under the rolling syllables.

“ _Fine_ ,” Harry answers in the same language. He turns back to the group with an apologetic smile. Louis’ brow is furrowed, his lips pouted a little. “I have to go back to our quarters. It was nice to see you all.”

He doesn’t look back when he walks away, though he feels the burn of eyes on him all the way out the door.

☆

“I am so sorry,” Jesy murmurs as Louis watches the enigmatic Harry follow his group out of the ballroom, his shoulders hunched a little. “I forgot about the whole Blue and Green… thing.”

“It’s fine,” Louis says. “It’s probably for the best. I shouldn’t have... well. I just shouldn't have.”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Stan says suddenly, turning to the boy who’d gotten soup all over his fur coat at the first dinner.

“Liam,” the boy says, grinning widely. Between him and Niall, this is the most cheerful group of people Louis has ever been in. “I’m from Red. How are you?”

Perrie and Jesy rope Stan into a conversation about another Pink girl named Jade—and when Stan’s cheeks flush, Louis decides he _will_ be getting more information about that later—when Niall, without preamble, pokes Louis hard in the center of his chest.

“Um,” Louis says while Zayn looks on, snickering. “Ow?”

“Your shirt looks hard,” Niall says in wonder. “But it’s soft!”

“Erm, yeah,” Louis asks, pulling Niall’s finger away from where he’s now stroking the material over Louis’ nipple through his top. “Synthetic waterproof leather. What, did you think I was walking around wearing a plastic shell all day or something?”

“I was confused,” Niall admits. “Also because it’s black. I was trying to figure out when the Alliance added a black planet and then Zayn said you’d told him you were from Blue.”

“The High Directorate thought that all-blue uniforms were too ‘flashy,’” Louis explains, holding up his fingers to make air quotes. “So we started wearing black ones a few years ago.”

“But why are you even wearing uniforms here?” Zayn asks. “Don’t you want to wear, like, comfy clothes? Or something besides black?”

Louis fidgets. “I don’t really… have any others?” he says awkwardly. “I never really needed clothes outside of school, and those uniforms were provided. It’s high quality stuff, and it’s not uncomfortable.”

Zayn and Niall are watching Louis with careful eyes, so he immediately changes the subject to ask about the delicious-smelling food being carried around by the waiters (apparently called mini tacos, and when Niall tries one he lights up, promptly leaving the group to follow the waiter around, asking questions about what it’s like to work for the Academy and stealing more tacos from his tray when he isn’t looking).

Louis finds himself flitting from group to group as the gala wears on, meeting Liam’s friend Andy from Red and Sophia and Eleanor from Purple and the mysterious Jade from Pink (and subsequently telling her every embarrassing story about Stan he can come up with off the top of his head, convincing a bemused Liam to hold Stan back until Louis can dash away, cackling). Louis has far too much of the champagne—he thanks Jesy for her planet creating something so wonderful over and over as the night goes on—and finds himself loosening up for the first time around people besides his family since… well, ever.

There’s not much room for frivolity on Blue, never has been. The planet thrives on technology and scientific advancements, and those aren’t made by goofing off. Those also aren’t made by learning useless knowledge like history and literature and the native Komen language (which is offered only as an elective course in school and basically seen as useless except in ancient titles that have been around too long to change).

Louis had always loved that his education was so technology-based and hands-on, because it’s what he’s good at. He had gotten his acceptance to the Academy right after he’d finished his senior project at the Institute (an anti-gravity spray he invented meant to make shipping bulky objects easier, but that Simon took and marketed as a hair product for women). So yeah, he loved his classes and his projects but he loves this, too, getting to say and do things without judgment or being asked how whatever he’s doing can benefit others.

Sometimes he does things just because he likes them. Sometimes he stares at the stars because they’re beautiful, not because he’s trying to figure out how he can market and sell them to the highest bidder.

Louis finds himself wandering out of the ballroom at one point, looking around at the stark white Academy walls and wondering how he ended up here. Calvin and Oli were chosen because of their political training, and Stan was picked to come because his Health Services studies will help with finding medical solutions from other planets to take back to Blue. Louis is just another tech junkie; a tinkerer, not a diplomat. Simon only allowed Louis to come if he promised to see if any planets have any technology even close to what Blue has been developing, and if they do then Louis is here to sabotage it or figure out how to make it himself only bigger and better.

Louis really, _really_ doesn’t want to be that guy. But Calvin knows that’s Louis’ reason for being here too, and he’ll be sure to make Louis follow through.

Louis shakes his head at his own melodramatic train of thought, stopping in a bathroom on his way back to the ballroom. If that’s what happens, there’s nothing he can do about it; if he wants to keep his job at Syco, he’ll do what needs to be done. It’s not like he’ll ever see these people again after these three months are over.

He washes his hands and hums and tries to regain the general feeling of being at peace with the galaxy—it’s not hard, thanks to the bubbles in his stomach and the hours he’s gotten to spend with new friends and away from the dismal twins Calvin and Oli. He fixes his fringe and the collar of his shirt in the mirror and is just backing towards the door when he bumps into someone, a tall someone who steadies him with big hands on Louis’ hips.

“Oops,” says Louis. He spins to thank his savior, only to feel his eyes go wide.

“Hi,” says pretty Harry from Green. His voice is low like rolling thunder, deep like the roar of a cargo ship lifting toward the atmosphere. His forest green [coat](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/02/17/article-0-1B93D81600000578-41_634x855.jpg) is velvety and soft to the touch, which Louis knows because he’s grabbed it helplessly to keep himself upright. His hair is a mess of swept-back [curls](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OYlJ7RS-INo/U46k-kqYtgI/AAAAAAAARbE/KvUjsExF-_Q/s1600/Harry-styles-quase-sem-roupa-4.jpg), a single white flower tucked behind his ear, and his eyes glitter in the semi-darkness of the room. “I didn’t get to introduce myself properly, before. I’m Harry Styles.”

“Hello, Harry Styles,” Louis says weakly, still trying to keep from falling over. “I think I’m drunk.”

“Interesting name. I thought it was _Louis_ , but I must have heard wrong,” Harry grins, and that little shift of his lips transforms his face from stoic to sweet, from a carven marble statue to living, breathing art. “I’m not super familiar with Blue customs, but that’s definitely a new one.”

Louis snorts. “Well I’m not familiar with Green customs, but shouldn’t you be named something like Tree Climber? Plant King? Lord of the Bush?”

Harry, instead of getting offended like Louis was sort of expecting and very prepared for, throws back his head and laughs. It’s squawky and adorable and Louis can’t help but grin in answer. “Lord of the Bush,” Harry chuckles. “I like that.”

“Good, it fits,” Louis nods imperiously. “Where are your friends? I thought they dragged you away when they saw you getting too close to my evil Bluetyp self,” he says, wiggling his fingers for evil emphasis.

“They’re back in the living quarters. They all had a bit too much champagne, they won’t miss me,” Harry shrugs. “And yours? I heard all sorts of lovely things about your mate Calvin tonight, and he definitely seems like the type who would think you’ll get a disease if you speak to me too long.”

“Calvin is a moron,” Louis answers bluntly.

Harry tips his head to the side a little. Louis feels dismantled under his considering stare. “Then why do what he says?”

“Why do what your friend Jeff says?” Louis shoots back, peeved. Harry might be pretty, but he’s hitting a little close to home with his wondering words. “You sure left quickly when he snapped his fingers and called you to heel earlier.”   

Harry frowns. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“And neither would you,” Louis counters.

And, of course, when speaking of the devil he often appears. The door flies open again, revealing none other than Harry’s friend Jeff. His eyes narrow immediately when he sees Louis, flickering between the two of them and the way Louis’ hand is still curled around Harry’s lapel.

“Harry,” he says, “Thought you were back in the rooms. Coming?”

“ _Dagalutsi_ ,” Harry answers with a wave of his hand, the unfamiliar words a drum of deep syllables against Louis’ ear. Louis expects Jeff to leave but he stays, watching them like he’s strategizing a defense for if Louis suddenly attacks.

“Right,” Louis says, uncomfortable. “Well, Harry, it was nice to meet you.”

Harry smiles, but the bright eyes and goofy grin Louis saw only moments before are gone, tucked behind an impassive mask. “You as well, Louis.” He reaches up, untangling Louis’ hand from his lapel. Maybe Louis imagines the stroke of a finger across the back of his hand, but something in Harry’s sharp eyes tells him he didn’t.

And then Harry’s gone, like a flower-wearing specter, like the wind off of a vivid dream.

Louis can’t sleep that night, the champagne that bubbles in his veins no match for the tingles caused by Harry’s skin on his.

☆ 

The next week starts the delegates’ new schedule, with each planet’s group leading a discussion on an aspect of their society—food, language, cultural norms, industry, and so on—twice a week.

Louis and the other boys from Blue had no say in choosing their topics: the Directorate had sent a detailed list, a study booklet for background information, and the suggested order the topics should be presented. Calvin and Oli would lead the discussions. Stan and Louis could help with the practical demonstrations if they felt they could handle it, but were otherwise meant to stay silent.

It’s clear that theirs is the only government giving them their material; as the welcome week continues, each planet’s delegation appears at fewer and fewer scheduled events. When Louis nudges Niall at a dinner one night and asks where he’s been, Niall gives him a weird look.

“Getting our stuff together for the first class, o’ course,” he says through a mouthful of something from Gray called pizza, which both he and Louis have declared to be their favorite thing to ever exist. He swallows and adds, “We didn’t realize we couldn’t use the Academy kitchen to cook the food we’re demonstrating on the first day, so we’re having to rush order ingredients and shift things around.”

“Oh,” Louis says, frowning. The Blue boys have to do a demonstration on food as well, and ingredients for the _kaffee un kuchen_ they’ll be making were packed and sent with them in a refrigeration unit, which is back in the living quarters. None of them have ever made a cake before, though, and Louis has never even had coffee, so he’s not really sure how they’re expected to know what to do. He turns back to Niall. “Do you cook a lot?”

“Nah,” Niall says, scraping his plate with his last bit of pizza crust. “That’s all me mam, she’s a genius in the kitchen. But Bressie’s decent, and I can help if they tell me what to do.”

So Louis spends the rest of the first week with Stan, and they spend their time avoiding Oli and Calvin, and everyone else spends _their_ time hiding away in their separate living quarters practicing and preparing for classes.

Louis and Stan waste one entire day exploring, skulking around the various dining rooms and common areas and the massive kitchen down on the lowest deck, which they are immediately chased out of. Stan drags Louis to the different living quarters spread across the Academy, poking fun at some of the more simple lock technology they come across. The Blue living quarters have an eight-touch coded interface, eye and voice scanners, individual ID numbers for each of the boys, and a heat sensor; Red’s door, in contrast, is literally just a single massive door handle (which, naturally, Stan and Louis immediately both try to turn, finding it impossible). Purple’s looks like a typical fingerprint scanner, Yellow’s is a mirror showing an image of someone they don’t recognize, and Orange’s door, for some reason, is ten feet off the ground.

“Do they climb up there?” Louis asks, trying to jump and grab the bottom of the door ledge (and getting nowhere close to reaching it, to his chagrin). Stan shrugs, tapping along the walls like he’s expecting to find a hollow spot or a secret button.

Gray’s door has a circle combination lock, Pink has DNA sensing technology (and Louis wants to stay and try and figure out how that works, but Stan soon gets bored and drags him away) and Green’s is—

“A tree?” Stan laughs incredulously. “That’s it? One tree?”

In Green’s defense, it is a _gigantic_ tree, seemingly growing right out of the clean white Academy floor. The leaves and limbs constantly shift as though there’s a breeze. Louis steps up and lays his hand on the bark, following the twisting pattern of the trunk, and it shivers under his hand like a faint heartbeat. He never expected a plant to feel so alive; just like animals and history classes and a unique language, the people of Blue don’t have much use for trees.

The tree shivers again, this time visibly moving under Louis’ hand. He jumps back and the middle of the tree moves, the trunk unwinding and opening up into a roughly person-sized hole, out of which emerges a familiar smiling face.

“I Think I’m Drunk!” Harry grins. “Good to see you.”

“You too, Lord of the Bush,” Louis replies, lips quirked to keep from smiling.

Harry turns back, looking at the tree and the disappearing doorway as it twists together again. “Were you looking for someone?”

Louis feels himself go pink. “Oh, um. Nope. Just got bored, wanted to explore a little.”

“Sounds fun,” Harry says, and he sounds like he actually means it. “Wish I could see the sights, but I’ve been sent to pick up the wood for the fire.”

“Fire?” Stan asks, and Louis jumps. He’d forgotten that Stan was even still here, watching Harry with sharp eyes. “What are you setting on fire?”

Harry’s face shutters closed; his bright eyes go vacant, his smile stilted. It’s the same blankness that had appeared when Jeff showed up in the bathroom, almost like his friendly smile had been only for Louis until he realized they weren’t alone. “It’s for our class,” he explains. “All traditional Yvgreen ceremonies are conducted around a fire.”

Louis glances at Stan, pleading silently for him to be nice. Stan looks unsure, like he wants to disapprove but also wants to help set things on fire. “That sounds… sick, mate.”

“Harry, this is Stan,” Louis introduces carefully, and Harry inclines his head. “Stan’s my best mate from back home. Stan, this is Harry, we met in a bathroom.”

“ _Siyo_ , Stan,” Harry says, smiling a little. “Though Louis isn’t getting it quite right—we didn’t meet in a bathroom, he tried to run me over in a bathroom. Very different.”

“He does that,” Stan commiserates, and Louis squawks.

“Don’t you have a fire to start?” he grumbles, crossing his arms. Harry’s lips twitch, and he brushes his hand down Louis’ arm as he passes.

“Don’t worry, _usdi noqsi_ ,” Harry says, turning and walking backwards so Louis is hit with the full force of his grin. “It was cute.”

Louis feels his eyes go wide as Harry winks and disappears around a corner.

Stan nudges him with his elbow, looking worried. “What are you doing, Lou? This is a bad idea.”

Louis has no idea. He knows he should stay away, but it’s like he can’t help but gravitate closer instead.

It’s shouldn’t be this hard to stay away from Harry Styles.  

☆

Louis leaves for the very first class Monday morning far too early, sneaking in as Niall and the rest of his group are still setting up their presentation. Niall notices him and waves, chirping out, “Good morning!” before his friend, Amy, pulls him back to go over their notes. It’s the first time Louis has seen the Orange delegation all together, the differences between them is striking: Niall is light and lithe, Amy is tall and willowy, and Bressie is built like an iron-sided shuttle. The only commonality between them is the identical green bracelets on each of their wrists.

It’s a pretty boring room they’ll be in for ten weeks of classes, considering they’re in a floating space station overlooking the galaxy laid out before them. One wall is made up entirely of cabinets and cupboards for the groups to store their presentation materials. There’s a large screen at the front of the room for any groups that want to show videos and six rows of white tables and chairs, and that’s about it. The only exciting part of the room is the right-hand wall: it’s one long plane of glass, outside of which spins the Nebula, a blue-purple-red cloud of dust and gas.

“Lou,” Niall calls from the doorway. “We gotta grab our food from downstairs. Can you watch our stuff?”

Louis nods, grinning. “Only if you give me the best part of whatever dessert you’ve made.”

Niall throws back his head and cackles. “Deal.” Niall, Amy, and Bressie shuffle out of the room, and Louis goes back to staring out the window at the Nebula.  

“Oh,” says a familiar rolling voice, and Louis jumps. Harry is standing in the doorway, awkwardly trying not to look at Louis, which is pretty hard since they’re the only people in the room. “Hello.”

Louis clears his throat. “Hey.”

Harry settles into a seat about as far away as he can, tapping his fingers on the table in front of him. Louis shifts, the material of his trousers scratching the chair. He’s incredibly aware of his every movement, and he doesn’t even know if Harry’s looking at him but it sure feels like it. Has Louis always breathed this loudly? Has his heartbeat always been that heavy? The back of his neck tingles.

“You’re here early,” Harry says, startling Louis. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Excited,” Louis answers. He doesn’t turn around, speaking his answer to the empty front of the room. “I like hearing other people speak about their experiences. We don’t… do that much on Blue.”

“What, speak?” Harry says, and Louis can hear the grin in his voice. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No,” Louis rolls his eyes. “Speak, like, just to listen to each other. Just to learn.”

“No time for reflection on the fastest moving planet, then?” Harry asks lightly.

“Not much.” Louis flicks a glance at Harry. “What about you? You’re here early too.”

“I couldn’t figure out the clock in my room,” Harry says seriously, his eyes going wide and earnest. “It kept ringing and I tried all the buttons but it never stopped, so I just shut it in the closet and left.”

Louis cracks up, burying his face in his hands. The image of tall, gentle Harry frowning and poking at an old-fashioned alarm clock as it rings shrilly is too much. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in ages.”

“It’s not funny,” Harry says, though his giggling undermines his words. “I usually wake to bird song, that was very traumatic.”

“You wake to bird song?” Louis asks incredulously. “Like a fairytale princess?”

Harry sniffs. “No, not like a princess, like a _normal_ person.”

“Normal people use clocks, mate,” Louis says, giggling. Someone clears their throat behind them in the doorway.

“Is he bothering you, Harry?” questions Jeff, eyeing them suspiciously.

“No, we’re fine,” Harry says, turning to away from Louis after sending him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly, looking down at the table in front of him until Stan settles in the seat next to him, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Y’alright?” he yawns.

“Fine,” Louis answers, watching Harry and his friends at the Green table laugh about something Jeff said.

There’s a loud whistle from the front of the room and there Niall stands, holding out his arms like he’s inviting them all into a group hug.

“Good morning!” he trills cheerfully. “Today, we are going to show you how to make a traditional Orancine meal. If it all goes up in flames, blame Bressie.”

Louis laughs at Bressie’s affronted expression and Harry must hear because he looks at Louis over his shoulder and winks. Louis feels his stomach flip.

He doesn’t notice Calvin and Oli sharing a pointed look on his other side.

☾

Blue’s first class is the next morning. Harry, by fault of being a dirty Greenie or some other probably offensive opinion, hasn’t had a chance to meet the other half of the Blue delegation. After their presentation, Harry loses that last little bit of himself that thought maybe everyone was just unfairly painting Calvin and Oli in a bad light.  

First of all, they make the group sit through a presentation on Blue’s government and political system, which is probably the most boring topic they could have chosen for a first class. Niall falls asleep in the front row, his head tipped back as he snores. Zayn and Liam spend the whole time typing notes to each other on Louis’ comm unit he’d let them borrow, promising them before the class started that it would be a dull one. Calvin reads straight from notecards and the other three just… stand there. Louis constantly bounces on his toes, his lips pursed like he wants to interject, to derail this trainwreck of a presentation. He’d opened his mouth to help answer a question from Perrie one time, and Oli had sent Louis such a dirty look that his jaw audibly clicked when he shut his mouth.

Harry knows Blue has a rigid social structure, a crazy amount of reliance on titles and authority figures, but this seems different. Louis looks disgruntled but resigned, and—well, it’s not like Harry _knows_ Louis, but following orders from someone like Calvin or Oli doesn’t seem like something he’d do willingly.

Harry follows Louis and Liam out of the classroom as they head to lunch, trying and probably failing to look like he’s not listening to their conversation.

Liam is clapping Louis on the shoulder, his face kind. “That was a nice class, Lou.”

Louis snorts. “No it wasn't, it was awful. If I had my say, we wouldn't talk politics at all. Who gives a fuck about that when I could spend the whole time talking about the new hover car we have out, or the updated comm unit holographs? I helped build all that, I _know_ that.”

The small group around him is listening intently, the Pink girls and Liam and Zayn and Niall and Stan all nodding emphatically.

“That sounds wicked, mate,” Niall says reverently. “It takes us ages to get new tech. You're so lucky you live where you get all the new stuff immediately.”

“See!” Louis exclaims, though no one was arguing. “ _That's_ what we're known for, not our bloody government hierarchy. I don’t even know why I was up there, to be honest.”

“Pretty obvious, innit?” Harry says blithely before he can stop himself, and the whole group turns to look at him. Louis is already grinning, his eyebrow arched like he’s saying _impress me_. “You’re there to be eye candy.”

Louis smirks and opens his mouth to answer, his eyes twinkling, but he’s quickly interrupted.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you,” sneers a voice that Harry has heard far too much today. Calvin is red with anger, his jaw clenched.

“Calvin—” Louis admonishes, but Calvin holds up a hand.

“Tommo here has accomplished more than you ever will,” he spits. “Just go back to your treehouse and shut your mouth.”

Liam puts his arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him away before Harry can formulate a reply to the spontaneous attack. Harry looks over his shoulder as he’s led away and sees Louis glaring at Calvin’s back, his face stormy.

☆

Louis gets to the classroom early again on Wednesday morning, though he tells himself it's not because it's Green’s day to present and he's excited to hear Harry's slow, honey-smooth words drip knowledge into his head.

He just likes being early, okay? He needs to get a good seat.

The tables are gone when Louis enters the room, replaced by a massive white dish—almost like a giant plate—surrounded by seven low benches in a heptagon. Inside the dish is a small pile of real wood, filling the air with a heavy, natural scent that Louis knows he's only smelled once before, that time he’d run face first into Harry in the bathroom. It should be strange, but he can't help but label it as _home_ in his mind, almost like it’s connected to something stronger than a memory. Like something about Harry so innately feels like somewhere Louis could belong.  

“It’s not going to work,” a blonde girl is saying as Louis creeps in. She’s got her hair up in two high buns, her jaw sharp as she prods at the pile of wood. “We’re going to catch the floor on fire.”

“We did it last year, Cara,” says another girl, the one who’s always with Jeff. “I just can’t remember how.”

“Is there a way we could use ropes?” Harry says. “String it from the ceiling, maybe?”

“What are you trying to do?” Louis asks, sliding closer. Cara and Harry both stand, all four of the Yvgreens spinning to look at Louis.

“Get out, Bluetyp,” Jeff rolls his eyes. “You can’t build us a robot to hold the fire, so you won't be able to save the day. Go on.”

“Is that what you’re doing, finding something to hold the fire?” Louis tries again. He crouches next to the white dish, prodding it. “What’s wrong with this?”

“We don’t want it to sit against the floor,” Harry explains. “It’ll scorch the tile when it gets hot, and it might burn through.”

“And you used this last year?” Louis tilts the bowl, feeling the bottom. It’s thin, and he’s pretty sure Harry’s right; it’ll burn right through.

Jeff throws up his hands when he sees Louis isn’t leaving. “Yeah, I think so. It looks the same.”

“Last year, they had it off the ground somehow,” Harry says. He flicks his glance over at Louis. “Got any ideas?”

Louis grins back. “Yeah, I think I do.”

☆

“It’s anti-gravity spray,” Louis explains, pressing the nozzle of his can and coating the bottom of the dish. “It doesn’t last forever, but it’ll definitely hold through the class. Probably longer.”

He flips the dish over and, just like he invented it to do, the spray makes the dish hover a few feet off the ground. Jeff grunts but doesn’t say anything, just turning to grab the wood and pile it at the bottom of the dish again.

“This is brilliant,” Harry breathes. “And you invented it?”

Louis flips the can, grinning. “I have been known to have a good idea or two.”

“Yeah?” Harry murmurs, then leans close. Louis freezes, his breath caught in his throat. “Any other good ones you want to share?”

Louis licks his lips, and Harry bites his. He flickers his eyes down to watch Harry’s mouth part a little. There’s inches between them, the air heavy.

“Harry!” Jeff calls, clearly annoyed. Harry and Louis both startle, but stay close. “You have a presentation to prepare, remember? Or would you like to go ahead and continue fraternizing with the one person you shouldn’t be speaking to? You know, what with all the inter-planetary war it could cause and stuff.”

“ _Dagalutsi_ ,” Harry says, waving his hand, looking only a little bothered by Jeff’s dramatics.  

“You’ve said that before,” Louis asks breathily, tilting his mouth closer to Harry so he can hear. “What does it mean?”

Harry grins, filthy. “It means I’m _coming_.”

Louis’ breath hitches as Harry walks away.

☆

“Most planets switched to the Common Tongue for daily life after the formation of the Alliance,” Harry says. His voice is soothing in the flickering dark of the classroom, the fire adding gravity to his words. Every person around the circle is rapt, watching Harry with wide eyes. “Some planets abandoned their native languages entirely,” he nods to Louis and Stan.

“The people of Nelahna, or Green, as you call it, did not. Our culture is rooted entirely in our language, and we have nothing without it. No history, no future.” Harry leans forward, sprinkling something into the fire. It flares green, then back to yellow. “We learn the Common Tongue in school, but it’s our second language. We use Yvgreen every day.”

He closes his eyes. Louis is captivated; Harry is ethereal in the low light, the flames carving new paths on his face. “ _Nutl-yvna nul-itanidol its-ula vtla-gohusdi_.” He opens his eyes, the green irises bright. “Without our history, we are nothing.”

☆

“So, _da-ga-lu-tsi_ ,” Louis tries, the syllables unfamiliar on his tongue. The fire has been extinguished, the classroom lights turned on again. The rest of the delegates had rushed to crowd around Harry at the end of the lesson, clamoring for his attention and lavishing praise over his captivating first class. But now Harry’s attention is all Louis’, his mouth ticked up in a smirk. “Did I say it right?”

“Almost. It’s, um,” Harry says, then reaches up, lightly touching the hollow of Louis’ throat. “It comes from here. The very back of your throat. _Dagalutsi_.”

“ _Dagalutsi_ ,” Louis repeats, his skin burning where Harry’s delicate touch rests. “And… there was another one. _Us-di no-qsi_.” Harry’s grin grows wider. “That’s what you called me a few days ago, right?”

“ _Usdi noqsi_ ,“ Harry murmurs, nodding.

“What is that, then?”

A throat clears; the spell is broken. Jeff is on one side of the room, Calvin is on the other, and both are staring at the two of them. Neither look happy about it.

Louis wants to be the one to step back, wishes he had that sort of self control. He’s making Calvin suspicious and pissing off Jeff and the Yvgreen brigade and there’s that question he’d tried asking himself before: is Harry worth it? Is he worth all that Louis will lose if he lets this continue?

Harry is the one who steps back, ruffling his hand through his hair. “It’s nothing,” he says briefly, his smile locked behind a cool mask as he steps away.

☆

There’s a message waiting on Louis’ comm unit when he checks it after class.

 _**From: Simon Cowell**  
_ _I’ve heard you’ve been a little too distracted to dig up any intel so far. I hope this distraction won’t continue. You have a job to do, Tomlinson. Don’t make me regret letting you go._

Louis sends back a terse reply, and he isn’t sure if he’s irritated at himself for being so weak, at Simon for taking what should be a learning experience and turning it into sabotage, or at Harry Styles for making it so hard to concentrate in the first place.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. He can’t let one boy ruin all his work and progress. He can’t let Harry be what tips the scales and makes Simon decide he’s not worth keeping around anymore.

Louis, away from Harry’s heady influence, decides he won’t let himself be pulled off track. Not even for eyes so wide they could hold the whole universe.

☄ 

Liam, Niall, and Zayn have a bet.

The Pink girls wanted in on it too when they heard, but they were disqualified after Liam had found Perrie and Jade trying to lock Harry and Louis in a closet together so they would win, forced out for tampering with the delicate process unfolding before them.

The bet is that—despite both boys’ assurances and eye rolls to the contrary—Harry and Louis will fall madly in love before the three month stay at the Academy is over.

Liam is a bit of a romantic, so he’s bet his two best furs, one each to Niall and Zayn, that they’ll realize it in the first month. Niall is stubborn and he says he recognizes that same headstrong notion in Louis, and he’s bet six months’ worth of Horan Farm’s best strawberries and a case of blackberry wine it’ll be in the second month before the two of them give in (causing Zayn to joke that Niall was literally betting the farm, which Liam found hilarious and Niall found worrying, making Zayn and Liam promise they knew they weren’t _actually_ getting Horan Farm if they won). And Zayn, ever the realist, bet a set of his mum and aunt’s best handmade pottery that it won’t be until the last month, when panic over running out of time together will finally push them into realizing their feelings.

The girls were going to bet that it would be in the first week, if they’d been allowed in. “One kiss!” Jesy had declared. “That’s all it’s going to take, I guarantee it.” Which is why Liam had found Jade leading a confused Harry to a cleaning supply closet, which both Leigh-Anne and Perrie were working to keep a shrieking Louis locked inside of until they could shove Harry in as well.

The funny thing is, no one thinks it _isn’t_ going to happen. Even people with no stake in the bet—Bressie and Sophia and Eleanor and Andy and the Gray boys (Sandy, Dan, Josh, and Jon)—have accepted Harry and Louis as an inevitability.

Even though, as far as outward appearances go, Louis and Harry sort of hate each other.

But not really. But sort of. Maybe?

Literally nobody knows. It’s like whiplash: one minute the two of them are lightly teasing and flirting with abandon, the next they’re hurling insults at each other and stomping away, leaving strained silence in their wake.

At first, Liam had tried to convince Harry just to stay away from Louis completely, and Zayn did the same with Louis. What good would it be for them to ruin their own experiences at the Academy by spending their days fighting with each other? But the two of them are like magnets; keeping them apart only works for so long before they snap back together.

And, really, it’s not like _all_ of their interactions are arguments. The majority of the time they’re flirty bordering on foreplay—Niall says it makes him sick when he sees that mischievous twinkle appear in Louis’ eye, the one mirrored in the uptick of Harry’s cocky smirk. Louis loves riling up Harry until his cool exterior is mangled into flurried hands pushing his curls back from his face and his cheeks stained red from all of Louis’ attention. And then, inevitably, Harry snaps; he shoots back something snarky and biting, something clever and canny, something that leaves Louis stunned with compulsively licked lips and something like satisfaction in his eyes.

Zayn thinks they’re only one heated argument away from having angry sex in the middle of the common room in front of everyone. Niall swears it’s deeper than that; they fight with each other, yes, but they also fight _for_ each other. Louis once heard Liam’s friend Andy making fun of Harry’s buckskin boots and lit into him, calling him every name in the book and a few new ones he probably invented himself, and by the time he was finished the entire room had gone silent and Harry looked like he’d been hit by a shuttle, wide-eyed and bright pink.

“They clearly like each other,” Niall says decisively in a low voice at dinner one night. “They just don’t seem to know what to do about it.”

Liam has a few ideas: “They could admit their undying love to each other in the next couple of weeks,” he grins. “That would probably work.”

“I actually think you could win the bet. I mean, you probably already would have if not for… well. _That_ ,” Zayn grimaces, gesturing over to where Harry and Louis are trying not to look at each other across the table while Jeff and Calvin watch them both with sharp eyes to make sure they don’t.

 _That_ is right. Before anything can happen between Louis and Harry there are a few obstacles in the way; the first is the two boys themselves, because they’re both so scared of hurting each other’s feelings or crossing some sort of line that they don’t even realize why it’s so important to be liked by the other. They don’t spend alone time together outside of the larger group, and sometimes they piss each other off and say the wrong things and snipe back and forth, but eventually they get over their hurt feelings and return to gazing longingly when the other isn’t looking. What they really need, Liam declares to Niall and Zayn one day, is a good, honest conversation where they aren’t looking for things to be offended by and there’s no one looking over their shoulders and judging them for talking to people from the “wrong” planets.

But that’s the second obstacle, and it’s what’s really keeping them from just succumbing to all the tension and making out already: Jeff and the Green delegation, and Calvin and Oli from Blue.

When Harry and Louis are together in a group with no Jeff or Calvin in sight, they tease and talk with each other just like they do with everyone else. But then Jeff walks in and Harry’s expression goes blank, his smile gone, and he’s more careful about every word he says. He doesn’t talk to Louis at all in Jeff’s presence, his eyes skipping over where Louis is standing like he’s invisible, and the irritation at being ignored rolls off of Louis in waves. And if Calvin or Oli are around, Louis tends to lash out; his teasing goes from lighthearted to pointed, barbs about Harry’s appearance or intelligence that everyone knows he doesn’t mean, he’s just flustered and cornered.

It’s a strange back and forth, and it’s almost all anyone talks about when Harry and Louis aren’t around.

“Jeff isn’t Harry’s brother, right?” Niall asks one evening at a cocktail hour, his glass of whiskey held up to cover his mouth. Harry is standing with Jeff, Louis and Stan are whispering to each other next to Oli, and both groups are at opposite ends of the room while everyone else clumps in the middle and gossips.  

Liam shakes his head. He’d met Harry last year when he accompanied an ambassador group from Red to Harry’s planet to update an old trade agreement. They kept in touch after Liam went back home (though Green is severely low-tech and getting a message back sometimes took weeks), and Liam thinks of the two of them as pretty good friends, so he’s sort of the unofficial source on Harry information. “No, they aren’t related. Jeff, Glenne, and Cara are all older than Harry and they’ve already been through the Academy, they just came back with Harry so he wouldn’t be alone. I think technically they’re considered visiting dignitaries, and Harry’s the only actual Academy representative. It’s why he’s the only one who teaches their classes.”

“But why?” Eleanor asks. “Why not send people the right age?”

Liam hesitates, worrying at his lip. “I think they’re having… troubles, back on Green. Like, illness, or something. They didn’t talk about it while I was there or anything, but when I asked Harry if there was anything Red could do to try and help, he got all sad and quiet and wouldn’t talk about it.”  

“Oh, no,” Sophia breathes, looking anguished. “Poor lamb.”

“Explains why Harry listens to the older ones, though,” Zayn points out. “If Jeff’s done all this before, he’s going to seem like he has all the answers, even if he is a little unfairly biased against Blue.”

Calvin and Oli are a different monster. Literally no one can understand why Louis and Stan, who are both infinitely more charming and likeable than the other two, aren’t the leaders of their group, and why they’re so hesitant to disobey when Calvin gives an order.

“I think it has to do with, like, their social hierarchy,” Jade says one night when they’re all in the Yellow living quarters, sprawled across the luxurious chaise lounges draped in deep red and purple throws. “We learned about it in school, it’s almost like a food chain.”

Jesy nods. “Yeah, the government and political figures are the top of the chain, then down to the CEOs and managers of the tech firms, then the people who actually create all the new technology, and the lowest groups are the people not involved in the tech industry at all, like teachers and nurses and artists and stuff.”

“Oh,” Niall says, sitting up. “I heard Calvin say once that he and Oli are trained in intergalactic politics.”

“Stan’s in health services, I think,” Zayn adds, “and Louis studied engineering.”

“So they’re technically beneath Calvin and Oli?” Liam asks, his brow furrowed. “That’s rubbish, who’s on top of the chain shouldn’t be decided by what you studied in school.”

Even though the whole room agrees, it’s not like anything can be done; Louis still has to listen to Calvin, just like Harry still listens to Jeff.

“We have to let them work it out on their own,” Zayn says, though nobody is happy with that, So they watch, and they wait, and they hope something changes soon.

☆

Green's lessons quickly become everyone's favorites.

Not that the others are boring. During Red’s classes, Liam comes dressed in animal skin from head to toe and describes hunting rituals and village politics like he's reading from a wilderness novel instead of explaining his actual, day to day life. Staðrmegin, or Red in the Common Tongue, is a planet a lot like Harry’s description of Green: they’re heavily concerned with conservation of natural elements and living a simple, good way of life instead of constantly striving for _more_. Liam talks about life on Staðrmegin and Louis wonders if they reject the technology that Blue thrives on because they don't understand it, or because it's superfluous to survival.

“Redlið people aren’t backwards, or afraid of change,” Liam says in class one day. “We have space programs and planet-wide communication just like everywhere else. We just also believe that there’s no need for separation between old and new. If a ritual has worked for thousands of years, don’t change it until something comes along that is proven to do the ritual better.”

Then he shows the class how to skin a rabbit and everyone forgets what he’d just said in favor of shrieking and covering their eyes.

Niall's group is always fascinating to listen to because the three people within it lead such different lives on the same planet. Amy, who works in a communication center in the capital, has an entirely different way of thinking than Bressie, who works in manufacturing, and Niall, who helps run his family's ancestral farm. The three of them have worked out an interesting routine of describing something about their planet, Áitaeir, from their three viewpoints, ultimately proving at the end of each class that even though they live completely different lives, there's still an Orancine mentality that is strong in each of them.

“And it’s pronounced Or-an-ki-nuh,” Niall says in their second class. “Quit calling us Orange-sines, you morons. We can hear you.”

Yellow’s classes are always a bit of an adventure because Jagaadeeli seems to be the most distinctive of the planets, completely different from every other society, having no overlap at all. They’re very careful with some of their phrasing and explanations, and Louis gets the distinct feeling that they’re either holding something back or assuming that the rest of the class knows what they mean when they call each other face-changers. Maybe everyone else _does_ know, but Louis is completely lost.

Still, even competing against all of that, Harry's classes always end up being the favorites, the hours spent listening to his syrup slow voice and watching the flames jump in their hovering dish enjoyed by everyone. Even Calvin looks enthralled, though, after every class ends, he's always quick to claim everything Harry just said was complete rubbish. Harry tells ancient myths and legends and teaches the class bits of the Yvgreen language; he spends one whole class talking about their treehouses, which are apparently famous around the galaxy (except on Blue, where they tend to pretend Green doesn’t exist). He talks about the home his stepfather built for his mother, an expansive three story abode in one of the tallest trees in the capital. Louis finds it riveting, can’t even imagine such a thing.

Blue’s lessons, meanwhile, are unanimously the worst.

Louis tries. He tries to steer the little bit of discussion toward something more exciting than Calvin and Oli’s scripted speeches on updated treaties and politics, their neat sidestepping of any interesting topics that get brought up in questions. Like Blue’s complete adoption of the Common Tongue and cultural rejection of their original language: no other planet did that, and everyone wants to know why.

“It was decided it was best for the planet,” Calvin answers stiffly when Eleanor asks, continuing on with his description of the nutrient trade agreement Blue has with Gray.

Blue is a fascinating planet, and yet _this_ is what they're reduced to. In the third lesson Louis stops going to the front of the room to stand awkwardly behind Calvin and Oli while they read off of the Directorate provided material. He watches from his seat instead, considering it his own form of personal protest. In the fourth lesson, he stops even trying to pay attention, sending comm messages to Stan to pass the time or throwing things at Niall that stick in his hair.

He lasts until the third week of classes before he snaps.

“...Treaty of 2-4 Alpha 1 led to an interesting rise in the gold standard-”

“You know what's _actually_ interesting?” Louis interrupts loudly. “Solar powered comm units. I’m working on that back on Blue, did you know?” Niall startles awake, wiping his mouth. Liam shakes his head, blinking his eyes fuzzily. The room shifts, waits for Louis to continue. “And do you know what is _not_ interesting?” He looks right at Calvin. “Government treaties.”

Calvin’s mouth drops open. Louis leaps to his feet and strides to the front of the room, and the rest of the class cheers.

“Are they completely solar powered?” Niall asks, suddenly bright-eyed.

“They will be. They’ll come with battery packs that can be switched out when the solar energy runs out, but they last for days,” Louis answers, grinning.

“Why solar power?” Liam calls. The whole class is awake now, absorbed and interested in a Blue lesson in a way they haven’t been since Calvin opened his mouth to drone out the most boring information in the universe five classes ago.  

“Ninety-eight percent of our planet has reliable electricity. We’re finally reaching that two percent that doesn’t.”

“Will you be selling it on other planets?” Zayn asks.

“Is grass green?” Louis asks back, rolling his eyes. “We can make money off of it, so yes. Even though,” he stops, cocking his head in thought, “we don’t actually have grass on Blue, so I don’t know if that’s an accurate saying. Harry, any help you want to offer?”

Harry smiles so widely it looks like it hurts. “I can confirm that grass is green.”

“Excellent,” Louis says. “More questions?”

“What else are you working on?” asks Perrie.

“Tell them about the anti-gravity spray!” Harry suggests, and everyone murmurs excitedly.

Louis doesn’t know what makes him happier: the angry puce color of Calvin’s face or Harry’s glowing recommendation of Louis’ own invention.

Or maybe it’s the way he can feel Harry’s eyes stuck on him through the rest of the lesson.

☆

Louis expects Calvin to hunt him down and demand an explanation after the class ends.

What he doesn't expect is for his new friends to not let that happen.

“If you think,” Liam says immediately, “that you are getting out of here without letting me spray my shoes and go space walking inside, you’re crazy.”

Louis doubles over in laughter before scampering over to grab the spray and trying it out. In the mass confusion caused by a suddenly airborne Liam, Louis can pretend he can’t hear Calvin’s bellows of “Tomlinson, we need to talk!” Zayn and Niall and the girls and Andy and Stan and even Harry are all there to act as a barrier, a wall Calvin isn’t willing to fight through to get to Louis.

☆  


_**From: Simon Cowell**  
_ _Calvin tells me you had a lot of fun showing off today. I heard you even interrupted his speech on the mineral treaty to talk about your own projects._

 _**From: Louis Tomlinson**  
_ _Yes, sir, I did._

 **_From: Simon Cowell  
_ ** _See if you can sell a few more cases of your anti-grav spray. We’re a little behind on this month’s quota._

☾

Louis still comes early to all of Green’s classes. Harry doesn’t know why—Jeff always makes sure he’s there to keep Louis from looking too much in Harry’s direction or whatever—but he still does, settling into his seat and watching quietly as Harry sprays the bottom of the dish with Louis’ anti-gravity spray and starts the fire, tossing in herbs and spices that fill the room with the glorious smells of home and turn the flames different colors.

Harry always appreciates Louis’ presence; it makes Jeff jumpy and it’s not like they’re actually hanging out together, but he likes that Louis is so interested in what Harry has to say that he comes early even when he gets nothing out of it.

Jeff has taken Glenne and Cara to pick up the hickory nuts Harry will need for his class later and Louis isn’t here yet, so Harry’s all alone in the all-white classroom, the benches already in their place around the glowing fire. There’s something about the stark whiteness of the Academy walls that itches his skin; he loves being here and he’s so happy for this experience, but he misses sky and wind and flowers. He misses dirt beneath his boots and damn, does he miss trees.

And that’s when he decides to grow one: just a single cedar tree, right there in the corner where it’s not bothering anyone.

He’s well into the process, his palm glowing as he directs the growing trunk upward, leaves and branches appearing like life in fast forward, when he hears a quiet gasp behind him. Harry jumps and turns, his hand still outstretched.

Louis is in the doorway, looking awestruck. He steps in slowly, his mouth agape. “Where did that come from?”

“Um,” Harry shrugs, “I grew it?”

That catches Louis’ attention; his gaze flicks away from the tree and over to Harry, his eyes bright. “Really? Back on Green?”

Harry chuckles, a little confused. “No? Just now. I know you think we love our trees, but not enough to carry them around with us wherever we go.”  

Louis has reached the cedar now, his hand outstretched. Harry’s palm is still glowing because he’s still connected to the tree, the branches and roots still waiting for his command to continue, so he feels it against his skin when Louis gently touches the tree’s trunk. His fingers are light, his touch reverential, and Harry’s palm tingles with it.

“How?” Louis breathes. “How did you—”

Harry slowly twists his wrist and the cedar follows, the branches swaying forward and away from the wall. Louis swears and jumps back, his eyes wide. He does a triple take back at Harry, his eyes catching on Harry’s glowing hand and the way the tree obeys his movements. Harry’s showing off a little, growing tiny patterns in the bark of the tree, carvings of stars and moons appearing along the wood. He bites his lip and, after flicking his eyes over to Louis to make sure it won’t freak him out, directs a thin, low-hanging branch to wrap gently around Louis’ arm, more of a caress than anything Harry would ever be able to get away with.

“Oh my nebula,” Louis breathes, running his fingers along the rough cedar leaves.

“I thought the other planets knew,” Harry murmurs, making the branch slowly unwrap itself from Louis’ forearm and sway back into place. He steps forward to stand next to Louis, surveying his work. “I thought it was common knowledge that we can do this.”

“Maybe it is everywhere else, but not on Blue,” Louis says. He shakes his head a little, looking ruefully up at Harry through his eyelashes. “This is only the second tree I’ve ever seen, y’know? And the other was outside your living quarters that day.”

Harry is floored. “Wait. You really don’t have trees? I thought that was a joke.”

Louis shrugs. “We figured out how to manipulate carbon dioxide back into oxygen ages ago, so we live off of recycled air. There used to be forests all over the place, but we needed the space for more factories.”

“That’s so sad,” Harry says, unhappy for his sort-of friend and his strange planet. What sort of place can decide that trees just aren’t necessary? Isn’t that unhealthy?

“I used to think plants were useless,” Louis continues quietly. He’s tracing the patterns in the bark, his finger careful around the edges of a star. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe we were all wrong.” He turns back to Harry, his eyes full of hope. “Can I see some more?”

Harry huffs a laugh, crouching to place his hand on the bottom of the tree trunk near the roots. Louis bends down next to him, his eyes wide. A vine of morning glories appears under Harry’s hand, unfolding slowly into brilliant blue [blossoms](http://i243.photobucket.com/albums/ff108/kristinwebber/morningglory2.png%20).

Louis whispers, “Wow,” and the reverence in his voice makes Harry’s hand shiver, the morning glories multiplying and spreading quickly up the trunk. Louis strokes one of the petals and Harry shivers again. “What are these called?”

Harry looks over at Louis, their eyes catch. “Heavenly Blues,” he says softly. Louis’ own heavenly blues stare back at him, drinking him in. “Guess I felt inspired.”

Louis flushes pink, biting his lip. The morning glories are still growing on the tree above them, their petals bright pops of color in the corner of Harry’s eye, but he can’t pull his gaze away from Louis to give them their proper attention. This is the closest they’ve been since that night in the bathroom, when Louis wrapped his hand in Harry’s lapel and wouldn’t let him go. Harry feels just as pinned this time, and just as unwilling to move away; Louis cautiously slides his hand over Harry’s on the tree trunk and Harry breaks out in goosebumps. The space between them disappears, Louis tilting his head up as Harry moves down.

“I’d be careful there, Tommo,” Calvin says in the doorway, his voice cool. Louis squeaks and falls backward. “Hate for you to catch some dirty Greenie disease. Or fleas.”

Harry flinches, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He keeps forgetting; he’s so captivated by a pretty boy just realizing how wrong he was about the universe he forgets where he is, why he’s here. Harry might be able to make Louis smile like no one else, but that’s not enough to erase hundreds of years of hatred standing between them. Harry can’t fight that, not armed only with a handful of flowers, and not with people on Louis’ side of the divide unwilling to let the past go.

He gets to his feet and brushes off his trousers, turning his back to Louis and the tree. He severs the connection to the morning glories and they stop growing, the glow in his palm fading away.

☾

Louis tries to catch Harry after class, his hand soft on Harry’s arm. “Harry, I’m so sorry. Please let me explain—”

Jeff is there in an instant. “I think you’ve done enough.”

Harry feels like he’s been hit in the stomach. He doesn’t look back at Louis when Jeff pulls him away.

☆

Someone is knocking on the Blue living quarters door.

Louis ignores it. He’s got a film up on the big screen and a pile of blankets to wallow under, and he doesn’t plan on leaving his nest. Calvin and Oli are off being awful somewhere else, and Stan rolled his eyes when he saw Louis moping and said he’d be with the rest of the group in the common room if Louis needed him.

Louis doesn’t want to see the rest of the group. He wants to be sad by himself in the dark for a little while.

It’s not even like what happened was his fault, it was stupid Calvin that said the wrong thing, just like usual. But it was just the reality slap in the face that Harry needed to remind himself not to hang out with fucked up Louis from the fucked up planet where they think things like trees aren’t important. The idiot who has to jump to attention when somebody his own age snaps his fingers and gives him and order.

He buries his face in a pillow and sighs.

Whoever is outside knocks again. It’s louder this time, the door shaking on its hinges.

“Louis!” Liam’s voice calls through the door. “Come on, let us in. I can’t figure out your stupid door lock.”

“No,” Louis shouts back. “Go away.”

“Quit bein’ an idiot, Lou,” Niall yells. “Everyone else is in the common room having a good time.”

“Then go to the common room,” Louis retorts. He starts pulling his blankets over his head so he doesn’t have to listen anymore. “You don’t need me.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Zayn says, his voice barely audible but still enough to stop Louis’ heart.

“Of course he is,” he says, laughing humorlessly. “I’d be mad at me too, if people were insulting me every time _I_ tried to have a conversation with _him_.”

“He’s not mad,” Zayn repeats. “Let us in, Lou, c’mon.”

Louis sighs and throws aside his blankets, unlocking the door and letting the three boys in.

“This is… cozy,” Liam says, taking a look around. Blue’s quarters are a lot like the basic living quarters that Louis’ family has back home; lots of low, smoothly curving furniture in silver and platinum, sparse in color except the single royal blue stripe along the walls. It’s functional, it’s fashionable, but it’s really not cozy.

“Come to the common room,” Niall urges Louis. “Come have a civilized fucking conversation with the guy, tell him you’re sorry Calvin feels the need to stick his nose in your business, and move on. Enough of this back and forth shit.”

“He’s right, Lou,” Zayn says, and Louis sends him an unimpressed look. Of course Zayn thinks Niall is right; he thinks Niall is the greatest thing to happen to the universe since the Big Bang. Louis drops his head on Liam’s shoulder, suddenly very, very tired.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” he whispers.

“He doesn’t,” Liam answers simply.

Louis sighs, and stands to change back into his tightest-fitting uniform. Maybe if his apology won’t work, the sight of his arse in leather will at least make Harry stop and listen for a moment.

☆

It isn’t hard to find Harry in the common room, even though everyone has stopped exclusively wearing the colors of their planets (or their best outfits—Zayn stopped wearing those gorgeous sherwanis after the first week, showing up everywhere in loose t-shirts and ripped black jeans ever since). Harry’s wearing a flowy white shirt, the material soft and diaphanous, skin-tight trousers, and a single blue flower behind his ear. He’s holding a drink, staring down into it like it holds the secrets of the universe.

He’s galaxy-shatteringly beautiful.

The room doesn’t get quieter or anything when Louis walks in, but he knows there’s a ripple of people sitting up taller in their seats like they’re planning on seeing a show. Harry goes all tense, not turning to look at Louis even though the stiffness of his spine proves he knows Louis is there.

“Make everyone quit watching us,” Louis hisses to the three boys who dragged him here.

Niall immediately jumps on the nearest table and starts instructing everyone on the proper technique for an old fashioned Orancine jig. “He’s a few pints in, don’t worry about it,” Zayn chuckles fondly. “Go sort things out.”

Harry is still resolutely ignoring Louis when he walks up, and Louis’ mind shuffles through every potential conversation starter in hopes that one of them might be what will get Harry to look at him again like he hung the stars in the sky. In the end, he goes with the simple but sincere: “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry breathes deep. “Is this another conversation that’s going to end with me being called disease-infested? Because I’d rather not, thanks.”

“Calvin’s not here,” Louis swears. “Or Oli, though he’s chickenshit without Calvin to back him up. I don’t know where they are, but they aren’t here. They can’t ruin this for me too."

Harry scoffs. “Right, you can do that on your own.” He drains his drink, wiping his mouth and setting down his glass. “Good night, Louis.”

“No, wait!” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s wrist. “Please, Harry, please. I want to explain.”

“I don’t think it matters, Louis,” Harry sighs. “People want us apart pretty badly. That seems reason enough not to spend time together.”

“Well I don’t care what people say when we’re together!” Louis shoots back. He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. “I like you, Harry, and I’ve spent all this time trying to stay away from you for all these reasons that I’d been told but that didn’t make sense when I met you, and I’m done with that. Everything I've been taught about you, and your people—it's wrong, and I'm still trying to sort that out because that's been fact to me all my life. But I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with playing along with this stupid feud.”

Harry turns, finally looking Louis in the eye. He looks fierce, tumultuous. “You really want to do this? Then tell me why, Louis. Why listen when they tell you what to do? Why jump away from me when Calvin looks your way like you’re doing something wrong? Why are _they_ the ones giving the orders?”

“Can we go somewhere else?” Louis asks, aware of the stares they’re drawing despite Niall’s exuberant dancing. “Please, I’ll explain everything, let’s just go somewhere quiet.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, and he tilts his head away for a minute before looking back at Louis and nodding shortly. He spins on his heel, and Louis almost has to jog so he isn’t left behind. They walk quietly, Louis a step behind Harry as he leads them through white hallways. Harry tries the first door they come across and finds it unlocked, letting Louis go in before him and shutting the door.

It’s another classroom, the room dark and silent. This one doesn’t have the wall of glass overlooking the Nebula but it does have a huge moonroof, outside of which glitters thousands of stars. Louis turns away from the view, swallowing, and finds Harry watching him with careful eyes.

“We might as well sit, it’s a long story.”

Harry nods, slipping gracefully to the floor. Louis follows, crossing his legs and immediately picking at the seam of his boots just for something to focus on. If speaking to Harry could be considered treason that may get him fired, then what he’s about to say is enough for jail time, if not more.

He doesn’t really care, and he doesn't think they'll be caught, but the consequences are enough to steal the breath from his chest for a moment. Then, he begins.

“We choose career paths on Blue when we turn ten years old,” he starts. “At age ten, I liked riding my hoverboard and playing with Stan and my little sisters and I was expected to choose a career for the rest of my life.” He laughs ruefully, rubbing his eyes. “I chose the engineering and technology course. My mum is a nurse and I knew I could never do what she does, I just don’t have the stomach for it. That’s what Stan did, but it wasn’t right for me. I don’t like economics or accounting all that much, so the business track was out, and I didn’t want to be a teacher or a politician. All the cool kids were choosing tech, so that’s what I picked, too.”

“I was good at it, luckily. Not just good—the best. It’s crazy competitive, and at age thirteen everyone in the tech program has to submit a project that will decide which second level school they advance to. There’s the manufacturing side, where they start working at eighteen in one of the various factories around the planet after a few years of training. Some of them go straight into manager positions, but mostly it’s grunt work, putting things together that they didn’t get to design. The other second level is the Komenstelle Institute, where the top students in each group go to get better training and develop their own tech and do projects that actually help people and solve real problems. That’s where I went and… it was amazing. It was everything I wanted, and Stan was in the Institute’s medical program so we still got to see each other everyday.

“The issue is that the Institute is expensive. It’s the most expensive second level school, actually, and, well. School funds are taken directly out of the family wages, and mine’s a single mum on a pretty low paycheck with four other kids to worry about. By the time I was fifteen we didn’t think I’d be able to stay there and I was devastated, but there was nothing we could do. I was actually on the way to the administrator’s office to hand in my resignation form when I was stopped by one of my professors and another guy. My professor introduced him as a CEO and owner of one of the biggest tech firms on the planet, and he'd been impressed with some of the work I’d been doing. He wanted to take me on and be my mentor and I had to tell him- I had to tell Simon Cowell, the most important person I’d ever met, that I couldn't be his apprentice, because my mum couldn't afford to send me to the Institute anymore.

“‘Unacceptable,’” Louis laughs quietly. “That’s the first thing he said. ‘Unacceptable. We’ll find a way.’ And so I signed a contract within that hour binding me to work for Syco and Simon from that very day onward. All my school projects were technically work assignments handed down from Simon. I missed class sometimes for meetings and things, but I was getting paid and getting paid _well_. My sisters could actually get toys and presents on their birthdays and we were able to move to nicer living quarters. My next oldest sister, Lottie, was able to go to the Institute too when she turned thirteen, in the tech program just like me.”

“Then I got older, and the projects got harder. I was asked to build things I wasn’t sure were even legal, things that made it easier to spy on people and some things that could be used as weapons if put in the wrong hands. My professors didn’t know about those, they just knew I was working on something for Simon and left me to it. But _I_ knew, and I wasn’t really comfortable with it all, and so when Simon called me in and gave me the mock-up sketches for a bomb he wanted made, I told him I wasn’t comfortable with that.”

_“You what?” Simon had scoffed, a single eyebrow raised at Louis. “You aren’t comfortable with that? Are you not comfortable with the money you’ve been making or the people you’ve been helping?”_

_“It’s not that, I just-” Louis tried to say, but Simon shook his head._

_“We have a contract, Louis. And sometimes, when you have a job and you have a contract, you have to do things you personally don’t want to do. It’s just business.”_

_It’s just business._

“I was sixteen,” Louis says. _It’s just business._ “I was sixteen, and I was making mass weapons for people I’d never met. I never knew where those projects went—the other ones, the non-scary ones like the anti-gravity spray, I could see those from start to finish, even helped with the marketing of some of them. But the spy satellites, and the listening devices, and the laser guns? I never saw those again. My plans and sketches all had to be turned in with my prototypes. It was like they’d never been made, but I knew someone out there was using them and I didn’t know why or how.”

Harry’s eyes are wide, the starlight from outside the moonroof reflected like tears. He shuffles closer, lays a hesitant hand on Louis’ leg.

“Right," Louis continues, voice wobbly. "So I’ve been told to make this bomb. And I don’t want to, but if Simon cancelled my contract, my family wouldn’t be able to afford food or our new flat. So I built it. It was relatively simple, something most people in any tech job could do, but I didn’t ask questions and finished it by my deadline. But this time, when I finished, I learned where it was going, who was using it. And that’s how I met Calvin.”

“ _Calvin_ had the bombs?” Harry gasps, horrified.

“No, not personally. But his mentor did, a Directorate member named Ben Winston. A few months after I finished the bomb and moved on to another project, I was called into a meeting with Simon, and these two other guys were there; I was pretty sure I recognized Calvin from the Institute, and then Directorate Winston is on the news all the time talking about new laws or whatever, so I knew who they were. And when I came in, they both shook my hand and said without me-” Louis’ voice cracks. “Without me, they’d have never been able to take out that damned Greenie supply shuttle. They _thanked_ me for it, like it was my idea, and I had to smile and say it was no problem.”

Harry is frozen, and Louis chokes a laugh.

“I didn’t even feel bad about it being a Green shuttle, that’s the thing. I’d been told my whole life that Green was a waste of a planet and they weren’t worth our time and if they were all wiped out it would be better off for the galaxy. And I didn’t really believe it, but, then again, I’d never given it a second thought. If _everyone_ said Green was bad, why would they all be lying? After that, though, I started trying to pay attention. I watched the news and listened for any reports mentioning Green and they were always talking about our successful retaliation missions, but they never said what exactly was done to make us need to retaliate. And that’s when I knew, that’s when I pieced it together that I was supplying the government with weapons to continue a war that was supposed to be over.”

“So I quit.” Louis gives a watery chuckle. “Or, at least, I tried to. I walked into Simon’s office and said that I wouldn’t make any more weapons, and that I was going to take my experience with Syco and go somewhere else. And Simon _laughed_. He said no one would hire me after I’d been sacked before even leaving school, and how would my family survive without my paycheck? Was my little rebellion worth my family starving? And then he said if I quit-” The first tear falls, and Harry slides closer, wrapping his arm around Louis’ waist. His touch is tentative but warming, an anchor to keep Louis from floating into the dark space in his own head. “If I quit, he’d have me arrested for conspiracy to commit acts of terrorism against other planets. I tried to bluff, say he had no proof, but he had _everything_ : all my notes and sketches and models, and videos of me building it all. So he had me, and there was nothing I could do.”

Louis’ face is buried in Harry’s chest now, his whole body shaking. He hates admitting this to Harry, letting this perfect human with a heart of gold know how deep his secrets lie. But he also _wants_ Harry to know, for some reason. Like maybe Harry can convince him he wasn’t such a bad person all along; if anyone could do it, it would be Harry.

“That was three years ago,” he finishes heavily. “I still make things I don’t want to, and I still have to report to Simon and see Directorate Winston and Calvin. I figured it out, not that long ago, that Simon and Winston were training me and Calvin to step in for them when we left school, that way Syco could continue supplying the government with weapons when they wanted out of the game. And Calvin knows, of course, that I tried to get out, and he knows that if I piss him off too badly he could report me and I’d be put away for life. I don’t know why he hasn’t yet, actually.”

“Maybe because he knows you could take them down with you,” Harry suggests quietly.

“I couldn’t,” Louis shrugs sadly. “I don’t have enough proof, and they have everything on me. And the government will work to keep Syco from crumbling, because if it shuts down so does the economy.” Louis sits up, wiping his eyes. “So that’s it, that’s my story. And the worst part, well, besides all the potential deaths I’ve caused, is that I couldn’t even get away for these three months. I’m only allowed to be here at the Academy because Simon thinks I’m looking out for competing technology ideas to steal or destroy.”

“What?” Harry asks, brow furrowed.

“I mean I’m only here at the Academy so if, I don’t know, Niall or somebody says, ‘Hey, look, my planet came up with something cool’ and Blue doesn’t have it yet, I’m either supposed to steal it and replicate it or destroy it so they don’t have it anymore.”

“Louis, I-” And here it comes, the part where Harry says he can’t be around someone who committed atrocities against his planet, somebody so clearly mixed up in the wrong sorts of things. And the sad thing is that Louis would completely understand, wouldn’t blame him at all. “I am so sorry.”

Louis’ head shoots up, his red-rimmed eyes wide. “What?”

“I can’t imagine being in your position,” Harry says, his own eyes watery. “You are so brave, and I don’t know that I could do the things you’ve done.”

“What, like kill people?” Louis scoffs wetly, rubbing his eyes.

“No, like stand up to powerful men and try to fight back,” Harry says earnestly. “Most people wouldn’t do that.”

“It doesn’t feel that brave,” Louis murmurs.

“Well, that’s how it looks from here,” Harry says, bumping his shoulder against Louis’ and smiling softly. “Brave _usdi noqsi_. Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for not screaming and running away,” Louis hiccups a laugh.

They spend the rest of the night there in that classroom, watching the stars twinkle outside the moonroof and talking about happy things, pretending they’re the only people in the galaxy just for a little while.

☄  


Liam isn’t exactly sure he wants to know what happened after Louis and Harry left the common room that night when they made up. He’s got a vivid enough imagination, thanks very much, even though Harry insists they didn’t actually do anything. But Liam doesn’t believe him; no one believes him, really, because whatever happened was enough for Louis and Harry to get over their weird dance of insults and creepy staring and into something that looks like a real, proper relationship.

“It’s not a relationship,” Harry insists at dinner one night, though he can’t stop smiling.

“What is it, then?” Liam prods.

“It’s… it’s just better, that’s all. Things are better.”

“That is a vague and irritating answer, Harry Styles,” Liam says, but Harry laughs brightly and it makes Louis look up from across the table and grin back at him. They’re both sparkly-eyed and pink-cheeked about ninety percent of the time now, and the other ten percent of the time Calvin and Jeff are nearby.

Honestly, even though they pester them for more information and tease mercilessly, Liam, Zayn, and Niall are just happy that those two idiots finally did whatever needed to be done to finally trust each other, and they are cheerfully on board with keeping things that way.

So, because they are highly invested in this relationship and all that it entails, Liam, Zayn, and Niall become the Best Wingmen of All Time. When Louis starts getting all fluttery and swoony because Harry grew a flower out of nowhere, and when that flower mysteriously ends up tucked behind Louis’ ear later that night, Liam knocks a glass of wine into Calvin’s lap so he won’t notice. When Louis and Harry almost get caught sneaking away after the last class of the day and Oli starts looking around with narrowed eyes to try and spot the two of them, Niall announces that it’s time to check and see if everyone remembers their Orancine jig lessons and _yes, everyone has to participate, Andy, I’m looking at you_.

And when Louis presents Harry with a fully-functional alarm clock for some reason—causing both of them to giggle like idiots, especially when Louis apologizes for not being able to add a bird song option—and Jeff asks how Louis got Harry’s alarm clock in the first place, Zayn grabs Niall and pulls him into a heated, thorough snog in front of everyone. By the time all the whooping and catcalls have died down and Zayn has pulled back, wide-eyed like he’s surprised at himself, Harry, Louis, and Harry’s alarm clock are long gone.

It’s a pretty good distraction, as it goes, and Zayn and Niall are happy to utilize it time and time again over the next few days. Sometimes they even do it when Louis and Harry are nowhere in sight, but Liam assumes they’re just really invested in the cause.

Maybe all the sneaking around is as innocent as Harry and Louis claim it all is: maybe they really are slipping away just to talk and, like… hug, or something. Liam doesn’t know. All he does know is about three days after their little heart to heart or whatever, Harry comes to Liam with a hopeful expression and asks, “Can we talk?”

And then, when Liam asks Harry if anything is wrong, Harry breaks into a small, incredulous smile and shakes his head.

“Everything is perfect,” he says, almost like he can’t believe it. Then he turns to Liam, eyes serious. “Li, I… I think I’m in love with him.”

Liam dances his way into the common room after that, demanding that Niall and Zayn pay up because he _totally_ won the bet. They disagree, saying that _both_ parties have to admit to being crazy for each other. Liam pouts, but he’s not that worried—he’s got three days left in the first month and he can still win this, because if Harry looks at Louis like he hung the moon, Louis looks at Harry like he scattered the stars, and surely it won't take _that_ long for him to admit it. 

☾

Harry never planned to spend every minute of his free time at the Academy plotting to sneak away to spend time with the only person he’s not supposed to spend time with, but that’s what happens. He and Louis get to be very good at reading each other, knowing when a flicker of a glance means _I’ll meet you outside_ or when a tilt of the head means _five more minutes_. They know which classrooms stay unlocked and when the common room empties out. They learn routines, too, figuring out whose living quarters are empty and when; Jeff, Cara, and Glenne have dignitary dinners each Thursday night, so Harry coaxes the laurel tree guarding the living quarters door to learn Louis’ touch and open for him without Harry's help, so that they can spend those evenings together before Harry’s friends come back and Louis has to sneak back out. Calvin and Oli spend every Friday night trying to sneak into the top-secret Alliance meetings in the upper decks, so that’s when Louis and Harry hole up in the Blue quarters.

Harry doesn’t really like it there; it’s a little cold, impersonal. The walls are nearly the same stark white as the rest of the Academy, and the furniture is all stylish rather than comfortable. Louis doesn’t belong in an environment like this—he should be surrounded by color, the brightest spot among bursts of light. Even when he wears his slick black uniforms meant to make him blend in with a crowd, he’s too unique to live in such a bland place.

Louis’ bedroom is better, if only because it looks lived in; he never makes his bed and the screen on the wall is always flickering colorful images and the Nebula spins outside his window, so that’s where they spend their time when Harry’s there. They’re there now, both of them curled up on Louis’ bed and facing each other, a small but insurmountable space between them.

They’ve been talking for hours; that’s all they do, despite Liam’s winking and nudging and insinuations to the contrary. Louis is like a spooked deer only now learning to trust people—he’s constantly on edge, always moving, always watching. Harry had thought their talk the other night might have helped Louis with that because it certainly helped Harry understand a lot, but it’s almost like it’s the opposite: Louis spends all their time together looking like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Harry to suddenly start screaming about how he’s a warmongering lunatic and having him arrested for terrorism. And yeah, it hadn’t been great to hear that Louis’ inventions were behind some of the hardships that Green had been dealing with before Harry came to the Academy, like the desperately needed supply ships never arriving. But blaming Louis for someone else misusing the technology he was forced to create would be like blaming a dog for biting when it had been abused, the anger useless and misplaced. Harry tries to prove that he’s not going anywhere, so they spend hours talking and barely touching and getting used to being in each other’s space.

Right now Louis is going over what he wants to talk about in class tomorrow and Harry is drinking it in, only understanding about every other word but enjoying watching the way Louis lights up when he asks questions. But he’s sleepy soft now, blinking slowly at Harry between stories and ideas like he might drift off, at least until something starts vibrating and he scrambles upward.

“Is that your alarm clock?” Harry asks interestedly. Louis looks over at him and grins, fishing his comm unit out of the holster on his thigh.

“No, but that is an adorable question,” he says, pinching Harry’s cheek. “Oh, it’s me mum!” The little screen of his device shows a picture of a pretty woman with familiar blue eyes, and Louis slides his fingers over it, tapping and doing all sorts of things until suddenly someone is saying “Hello, love!” from the big screen on Louis’ wall.

“Hey mum,” Louis says cheerfully. His mother is beautiful, her hair piled up in a messy knot on top of her head and her smile bright. At least, it’s bright until she sees Harry, still reclined across Louis’ bed.

“Louis!” she hisses. “There’s a boy in your bed!”

“There’s a what?” a voice says on her end, and a head of platinum blonde hair appears on the screen. “Phwoar, Lou, look at you. Bagged yourself a good one, eh?”

“Lottie!” Louis admonishes. The girl on the screen who can only be Louis’ sister is grinning, not-so-subtly trying to peer around Louis to get a glimpse of Harry. She’s not much younger than her brother, probably sixteen or seventeen.

“Don’t get mad at her, you accepted a call with a boy in your bed!” his mum says.

“There’s not a _boy in my bed_ , you drama queens,” Louis rolls his eyes. “This is Harry, and he’s clearly above the covers and fully clothed. We were just _talking_. Harry, this is my mum, Jay, and my little sister Lottie.”

All three sets of blue, blue eyes turn to look at Harry, two pairs pixelated but no less sharp. “Um. Hello?”

“Hel _lo_ ,” Lottie smiles coyly, and Louis makes an affronted noise.

“No,” he says loudly. “No, Lottie. Just no.”

“I knew he was yours,” she laughs, and Louis goes pink.

“He’s not- we’re just- is there a reason you called?” he asks, strained, and Harry giggles into his palm.

“Not really,” Jay says.  “Just checking in. The twins wanted to talk to you, but they’ve got their second level projects coming up soon and they’re hard at work on those, and Fizzy’s over at a friend’s but she sends her love.”

“We’re back on water ration again, Lou,” Lottie butts in, her eyes suddenly as serious as the twist of his mouth.

Louis sits up straighter. “Since when?”

“About a week,” Jay says grimly. “Don’t worry about us, though—”

“Do you have enough stored up?” Louis interrupts.

“We’ve got plenty,” his mum answers. She’s got the hard look in her eyes of someone who has had to make ends meet in difficult circumstances before, and Harry feels that if there’s a way to make it work, she’ll make it happen.

Harry, not knowing if he’s allowed to interrupt, whispers, “What’s wrong with the water?” to Louis.

“It’s all kinds of polluted,” Louis grimaces. “Like, completely undrinkable.”

“Should’ve seen it today,” Lottie says. “Here, I forgot and poured some from the tap earlier.” She reaches offscreen and grabs a glass of something murky brown and thick.

“That’s your water?” Harry asks incredulously. “How do you drink it?”

“There’s ways to purify it with chemicals, but it’s expensive and it takes a while,” Louis explains. “You can buy purified water and store it, but that’s expensive too.”

“But that’s not right,” Harry’s mind is stuck. “How does it get that bad?”

“Where are you from, dear?” Jay asks.

“Nelahna,” he answers distractedly.

“He’s from Green,” Louis translates for him. They both realize their mistake at the same time when Lottie and Jay stiffen in surprise.

“What?” Lottie asks worriedly.

“Shit, shit,” Louis mutters, rubbing at his mouth like trying to erase his last words. “Don’t jump to conclusions, alright? Nothing about this situation is what you think.”

“Does Calvin know you’ve talked to him?” Jay whispers urgently.

“Honestly, Mum, I don’t know,” Louis says, his voice lined with steel. “Just trust me, yeah? Things are not… what we thought.”

“Louis, if Calvin knows he’ll turn you in, he’ll-” she stops, flicking her gaze to Harry like she’s afraid to say too much.

“You can say it. He knows everything.”

“Everything?” Jay asks, wide-eyed. “Louis, _why?_ This is so dangerous. What if he takes that information home and uses it? You could-”

“Mum,” Louis stops her. “That’s enough. Harry is the best person here, he’s the best person I’ve ever met. He would never do that.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the three Tomlinsons staring at each other, the two women resolutely ignoring Harry’s presence. “Fine,” Jay says finally. “I trust you.”  

Louis sighs. “Thank you.”

Jay shakes her head, but the twitch in the corner of her mouth is fond. “We’ve got to go, sweetie, the twins’ll want dinner soon. Talk to you later-”

“Wait!” Harry blurts, and Jay looks over at him, startled. “Sorry. Just. Could you send Louis a sample of your water? I want to try and help.”

Louis nods when she looks at him for confirmation, and she agrees. “Sure,” she says, and it almost doesn’t sound suspicious.

Louis ends the call after another round of goodbyes, the room going quiet. “I’m sorry,” he offers. “I wasn’t thinking, I forget everyone back home hasn’t had, y’know, life-altering realizations that you lot aren’t tree-climbing barbarians out to kill us all.”

Harry snorts quietly. “Well, I do like climbing a good tree now and then.”

Louis shakes his head, smiling. “It’s fucked up though, right? The water thing.”

“Louis, that’s not healthy at all,” Harry says slowly. “Water shouldn’t have to have chemicals in it to make it drinkable. Something has to be done, that’s not sustainable.”

“What _can_ be done?” Louis shrugs sadly. “It’s scary, because, like. Clearly our government is fucked up, as you are well aware, but our people are a little fucked up as well. We’ve been trained to put buying new stuff over the wellbeing of our planet. There was a proposal for a new law, some new guy on the Directorate with this ridiculous hair kept going on the radio to talk about it, and it was going to direct a whole bunch of money towards a new clean air and water project. I was going to be assigned to that project, actually, if it went through. But the money would have been taken out of the government grants given to companies like Syco, so those companies pushed everyone to vote against it.”

“Is it bad that I’m so happy you got away from there?” Harry whispers.

Louis smiles a little, biting his lip. “Is it sad that I’m happier here, with you, than I ever was there?”

Harry grins widely, his cheeks hurting. “No, _usdi noqsi_ , I think that’s amazing. Definitely not sad.”

☾

“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?”

“What what means, _usdi nosqi_?”

“ _That_. What you called me. You ever gonna tell me what that means?”

“Maybe someday.”

“But not today?”

“No, not today.”

☆

It takes a little while for Louis to break out of his new Harry haze long enough to remember the whole growing-trees-out-of-thin-air thing. He, Harry, Liam, Niall, and Zayn have the common room to themselves one night as the hands of the clock tick nearer and nearer to two in the morning; they’re lazy and sleepy and talking circles about everything and nothing. Niall is stretched out across a sofa, his head in Zayn’s lap and his feet over Liam’s knees. Louis and Harry are tangled in a loveseat next to them, Louis’ legs flung over Harry’s thighs, his naturally cuddly tendencies finally allowed to let loose little by little now that he’s not so worried about scaring Harry off. Harry certainly doesn’t seem to mind, his thumb tracing little circles on Louis’ knee.

There’s a flower in a vase on the table near them; it’s fake, Louis’ pretty sure, but it catches Louis’ attention and reminds him of brilliant blue flowers blossoming along a vine in front of his very eyes, a glow in Harry's palm as he guides their way. He stops thinking about how his spine tingles every time Harry touches him and he sits up, smacking the armrest of the chair for attention, startling everyone back to full wakefulness.

“Did you people know Harry can just _grow trees?_ ” he asks when he’s gotten their attention. “Like, wherever he wants, _poof_ , there’s a tree!”

The other four smirk. Harry pats Louis’ thigh consolingly. “Yeah, Lou, I think they know. I told you, remember, it’s pretty common knowledge.”

“But I’ve literally never heard of that.” A realization dawns. “Oh my nebula. Can you _all_ grow trees?”

Zayn, Liam, and Niall howl with laughter, Niall rolling off the sofa and onto the floor, and Liam and Zayn slumped over onto each other, clutching their stomachs with mirth.

“It is not that funny,” Louis pouts, unamused. Harry, giggling, runs his hands through Louis’ hair in sympathy.

“It’s a little funny.”

“Thanks for that, mate,” Niall chuckles, wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’ven’t laughed that hard in years.”

“So… at the risk of making myself look like an even bigger idiot,” Louis rolls his eyes. “Is there anything else I need to know about the four of you? Any new mysterious planetary secrets?”

“You sure you can handle it, babes?” Zayn laughs.

Louis gives him an unimpressed look. “Yes, Zayn, if I can handle Harry spontaneously growing flowers on every available surface, I think I can handle whatever stupid party trick you’re going to throw at me.”

Zayn just smirks. “Alright then. Who’s first?”

“Think that’s me, lads,” Liam grins. “Mine’s the least shocking, I’m pretty sure.” He scoots to the edge of the sofa cushion, reaching over and fitting his hand in the space under Louis and Harry’s loveseat. Harry braces himself like he knows what Liam’s about to do.

Suddenly, Louis is a lot closer to the ceiling. He looks down and shrieks, scrambling to hold on to Harry’s shoulders.

Liam has lifted the loveseat, Harry and Louis still seated firmly on it, and is holding it over his head with one hand. He’s still grinning, not showing any signs of exertion as he lowers them back down to the ground again. Louis is frozen, shocked.

“Um,” he says, his voice cracking. “What the hell?”

“Enhanced strength,” Liam says cheerfully. “It’s a Redlið evolution from all those years of our ancestors surviving in the wilderness. I’m super fast, too. And resistant to cold.”

“What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever picked up?” Louis asks immediately. Harry stifles a laugh in Louis’ shoulder.

Liam’s grin grows wider. “Two horses-”

“Holy shit,” Niall mutters appreciatively.  

“-and the wagon they were pulling.”

“I feel like I would be more impressed if I knew what a horse was,” Louis says truthfully.

“You haven’t even seen a picture?” Zayn frowns. “It’s sort of like a dog, but much bigger and more… I don’t know. Horse-like.”

“They don’t have dogs on Blue, either,” Harry supplies helpfully.

“Do you have any animals?” Niall asks concernedly. “Like, birds, cows, pigs, anything? What do you _eat?_ ”

“We don’t need animals for food, we have artificially flavored vitamin packs,” Louis says, waving his hands. “The government decided animals weren’t useful anymore a few centuries back, so we shipped ‘em somewhere else. That’s not as interesting as _this_. Niall, what can you do?”

Niall, who still looks affronted on Louis’ behalf because there aren’t any wild creatures roaming around on Blue for him to eat, reaches for his ever-present green bracelet. It’s the same one he wears everyday, the same one Amy and Bressie have as well, a simple band with no screen or face or design to it at all. Niall stands, presses a button on the side of the bracelet, and suddenly levitates into the air.

Louis thought he could keep it cool after Liam’s impromptu display of strength. He can’t.

“What the fuck!” he shouts, flailing a little to extricate himself from Harry’s arms to rush over to Niall and kick at the empty air beneath his feet. “Niall, what the fuck! You’re flying!”

“Air walking, technically,” Niall corrects. He bounces a little on his toes, lifting himself higher in the air each time like he’s climbing invisible stairs. When he presses the button on the bracelet again, he drops gracefully back down to the floor. Louis grabs at his wrist, twisting his arm at awkward angles to inspect the simple green band.

“What does this do? How does it work? Tell me everything.”

Niall laughs, unhooking the bracelet from his wrist and handing it to Louis before rising up in the air again. “It lets us control the effect gravity has on us. There are three buttons on the side—one turns the gravity pull up if we want to stay closer to the ground, one turns it down if we want to go higher, and the middle one returns you to equilibrium, which is the same as taking the bracelet off,” he explains, hovering in the air over Louis’ shoulder.

“This technology is amazing,” Louis breathes. “Gravity control is difficult, and we have to use these massive bulky suits for the same effect as this little bracelet.” He forgets about the other people in the room a little bit, his mind spinning off in different directions with a thousand new possibilities. He could probably convince Niall to let him keep the bracelet for a while, to tinker with it and see how it works. He could have a mock-up put together by tomorrow, a prototype by early next week if he pushed it. Simon would _kill_ for something like this—

“Lou,” Harry says quietly, snapping Louis out of the rambling he just realized he was doing out loud.

“Right,” he says distantly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Niall is still levitating in the air next to him, watching him carefully. Harry is biting his lip, half out of the chair like he was about to shake Louis out of it. “Right, sorry, Ni. Here, quit floating around like a gnat.”

He hands the bracelet back to Niall. “No harm,” Niall shrugs easily, sliding the bracelet on and landing back on the floor. Louis sits next to Harry and Harry wraps his arms around his middle, pulling him back against his chest.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. Louis nods. He hates that Simon still has that pull, that his automatic reaction to seeing Niall’s amazing device had been to secret it away and figure out how to replicate it so Simon could have it too. Even from thousands of miles away Simon is still the puppetmaster pulling the strings, but at least Louis can still resist. At least now he’s got help to keep him right.

“Fine,” he says after a moment, and with Harry’s arms around him it almost feels like the truth. “Okay, Zayn. Let me have it.”

Niall and Liam both lean up to watch as well, as though they haven’t seen Zayn’s mysterious ability yet either. Zayn moves to perch on the table right in front of Louis, a foot of space between them. “Watch closely, Lou, alright?” he says, and Louis nods, not even blinking. His eyes flicker all over Zayn’s face, watching for something to change.

Nothing happens.

Louis’ eyes start to water but he still doesn’t want to miss it, waiting for something, anything to happen. Zayn’s face, lovely as it is, stays exactly the same. He doesn’t hover or hypnotize Louis or burst into flames or anything.

Louis blinks.

When he opens his eyes again, his own face is staring back at him: Zayn’s gold eyes and tan skin and tousled black quiff are gone, replaced by blue eyes and messy brown hair and a mischievous smirk.

Louis panics and pokes the new Louis right in the middle of the forehead. He doesn’t know what he expects, maybe that it’s a hologram or something, but his finger hits solid skin and the new Louis rolls his eyes.

“It’s me, you idiot,” comes Zayn’s voice from the new Louis’ mouth.

“No, that’s me,” Louis says stupidly.

Liam snickers. The new Louis turns his head and winks at him; instantaneously, the Louis that was there is now a Liam. Then a Niall. Then a Perrie. Then someone Louis doesn’t recognize, a dozen different faces flashing in front of his eyes. Then it’s back to Zayn’s regular face, but his hair is long and flowing around his face, parted right down the middle, and his nose is pierced. Then he blinks and his head is half-shaved, the top part up in a bun. Then again, and his head is almost fully shaved, his hair bright blonde and drawing attention to the cut of his jaw.

“Oh my nebula, _face-changer_ ,” Louis says, smacking himself on the forehead. “You say that in class all the time, I never knew what it meant!”

“It’s pretty literal,” Zayn teases. “But yeah, all full Yellowi people are nanomorphs. We can’t change our full appearance like this until we’re teenagers, though, so I spent most of my early years using all my energy on changing my hair to green or silver. We can change more aspects of ourselves the older we get.”

Louis blinks again and Zayn’s changed his face again; there’s a Harry in front of him now, brilliant green eyes and a small curling smile. The real Harry is still behind him, chuckling into Louis’ ear.

“Wow,” Louis breathes, then grins filthily. “I think I could come up with a few things I could do with two Harrys.” Liam cackles, but Louis is more interested in the way Harry’s breath hitches, how his hands clench Louis’ hips tightly before relaxing again.  

Niall is not so amused. “No. Nope.” He pokes Zayn in the side. “Change your face back.” Zayn smirks and reappears as himself, Harry’s long curls flipping back up into Zayn’s high quiff with that distinctive blonde streak through the front, green eyes brightening to Zayn’s glittery gold color, his skin darkening and tattoos blooming.  

“So what do you really look like?” Harry asks. “I know that’s not your real eye color.”

Zayn grins. “No, but s’cool, right?” He shakes his head, does a full-body shiver, and opens his eyes again. They’re brown, now, deep and dark and natural, and his high quiff is down in a soft, flat style. The tattoos all up and down his arms and chest are gone. He shrugs. “I don’t change too much. I’m pretty happy how I am.”

Louis scoffs. “Wow, the supermodel is okay with his own looks, everybody. It’s a miracle.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Harry teases. “You in those leather pants all the time are unfair to the rest of the group.”

“The rest of the group or just you?” Louis asks playfully, stroking his hand over Harry’s arm.

“That’s enough of that, I think,” Liam rolls his eyes, reaching over with a single finger and jostling the whole chair so they separate a little.

“Well I want to file a complaint,” Louis says, settling back against Harry’s chest again. “I didn’t get one single superpower, and I feel left out.”

Niall snorts. “Right, Lou. Like you can’t do anything.”

“I can’t fly!” he says petulantly. “I can’t pick up horses, whatever those are. I can’t spontaneously grow trees and I can’t change into someone else. Am I missing anything?”

“The girls from Pink can manipulate materials,” Liam supplies helpfully. “It's pretty cool. Like, Perrie can do silk, and Jade can do cotton, Jesy does steel, I think? And Leigh does water. They just touch whatever material it is and change it however they want it; everyone from Pink has their own specialty. And people from Purple can breathe underwater, that’s what Eleanor told me, and—”

“Okay, Li, not helping,” Niall says mildly. “Lou, c’mon. You’re joking, right?”

Louis gives him a flat look. “No, Niall, I am not joking.”

“We were all with you yesterday, remember?” Zayn says. “We saw it in action.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mate,” Niall laughs, shaking his head. “You got bored and built a stun gun out of a chair, an old radio, and one of Liam’s shoelaces right here in this very room. People stopped what they were doing to watch you. Everyone applauded when you finished, remember? You took a _bow_.”

“That’s not a superpower,” Louis argues. “That’s just something I can do.”

“Air walking isn’t a superpower, it’s just something _I_ can do,” Niall shoots back. “And Zayn can change his face and Harry can grow shrubbery and Liam can lift small hills. Those are just things we can do.”

“And it’s not even like all Bluetyp people can do that, right?” Zayn prods genially.

“He was top of his class at the Komenstelle Institute,” Harry says proudly, like a mum gloating to the neighbors.

“See, Lou,” Liam says cheerfully. “You have a superpower too, and it's probably the coolest one because you can actually get paid for it.”

“I… have a superpower?” Louis asks wonderingly.

“Listen here _usdi noqsi_ ,” Harry says, and Louis turns in his arms to face him head on. “On a planet where everyone has the same evolutions, the stuff we can all do isn't really considered ‘powers.’ It would be like if I went around bragging that I can breathe without even thinking about it—so what? So can everyone else. But you are special, and no one can do what you do.” He clears his throat, leans closer. “No one could do what you _did_.”

And with anyone else, Louis would panic and think he was hinting at Louis’ fucked up career path to throw him off or scare him. It's what Calvin does, and Oli when he wants Calvin to pay attention to him. It’s _definitely_ what Simon does to remind him exactly who owns him.

But Harry means it, that he thinks Louis is talented. And he means it when he says he thinks Louis is brave.

Louis’ heart flips in his chest.

“I'm a superhero,” Louis says decisively, then hops off of Harry's lap to try and convince Niall to give him a flying lesson.

☆

After Louis hijacked Calvin’s class and actually got people interested in their planet and what they do instead of reading dry summaries of treaty negotiations and calling it a day, Calvin has graciously decided to let Louis continue on with the lessons in his stead.

“If you want to do more work and let me do less, go right ahead,” he'd laughed, though it had sounded a little shrill. “I've done the important part of my job and that’s all we need for the end report, so the rest of my time here can be a vacation.”

By “the important part of his job,” Calvin means that he badgered Zayn and Perrie on the first night at the Academy to verbally agree that the contracts between their planets were still in place. And they did, mostly just to make him leave them alone, but Calvin considered it mission accomplished. Now, on the last day at the Academy when the planet delegations give reports for their home governments, Calvin can say he’s continued the treaties and he’ll be golden. It’s one of the few powers given to the delegates when they come to the Academy: they can make treaties amongst themselves and they’re binding unless the planet governments they represent strike them down. The delegates can ask for their sponsors’ opinions if they’d like but, for all intents and purposes, the Academy is meant to let them have a chance to see how intergalactic politics works, and gives them a hint of power to go along with that.

Anyway, Louis is also pretty sure Calvin’s letting Louis take over the lessons so easily because he thinks it'll get him in trouble with Simon for disobeying a Directorate command. Funny thing is, when Simon isn't convincing members of the government to buy illegal bombs from him, he doesn't give a fuck about the Directorate. He cares about sales, and that's it.

So Louis’ hostile takeover was really more of an apathetic transition of power than anything else. Calvin doesn't even show up to the Blue classes most of the time anymore, assuming Louis and Stan can watch their mouths enough to get through the rest of the time here without starting a war or something. And, since Louis _definitely_ isn't following along with the government-provided lessons but didn't really have time to create all new presentations, the classes are mostly Louis sitting cross-legged on top of the table at the front of the room and answering questions for a couple of hours, occasionally showing everyone his inventions that he'd forgotten he'd packed while Stan pipes in with stories of his own when he feels like it.

It's the delegates’ fifth week at the Academy. Niall, Bressie, and Amy had spent the previous day’s lesson discussing the nuances of Orange’s religion and it had gotten a little heated, so Louis wants to take it a little easy for Blue's class. Plus he's exhausted—Liam, for some strange reason, had spent the entire weekend trying to corner Louis and coerce him into talking about, like, _feelings_ and things. _Harry_ -related things.

Louis has barely wrapped his mind around being Harry's friend, he's certainly not ready for some declaration of love while he cries on Liam's sympathetic shoulder. It's far too early for that.

Maybe.

Well, maybe not. Maybe Louis _should_ have told Liam about the weird fluttering he gets in his stomach when Harry smiles at him. It might be good to get a second opinion. But Liam had seemed a little crazed, muttering about his last chance or something, weird things about blackberry wine and pottery and his favorite fur coats. When Louis brought it up with Niall and Zayn, they'd both just laughed.

“Just Payno being Payno,” Niall had joked, and Louis just tilted his head, letting him and Zayn cackle over some inside joke that Louis isn’t a part of.

Whatever.

So it’s time for Blue’s class, and Louis brings Stan up to the front of the room to talk about Blue’s medical advancements to combat the diseases and illnesses caused by their tainted water supply (even though they don’t mention that part). It's a topic that's been on Louis’ mind all week, especially since his mum had called only yesterday and mentioned they were still on the water ration; Louis can't get the horror on Harry's face when he'd seen their water out of his mind, and it's only solidified his realization that his version of normal on Blue is not the same as everyone else’s versions of normal.

It's to be expected, a little, just because Blue has always been the planet on the cutting edge in every scientific industry. The whole planet had been using comm units for decades before that technology had ever even reached Orange and Gray, and Louis is pretty sure comm units never made it to Green at all, if Harry's fascination with the devices is anything to go by. But there are other things that are normal to the Bluetyp people that, when Louis or Stan mention them, are definitely not the same on other planets.

Like the nutri-pack thing. Once Syco invented a way for people to get their daily dose of vitamins and minerals in a calorie-free, bite-sized chew, the planet had adopted it as a standard meal format and never looked back. But that never spread to other places, not even planets like Pink and Yellow that are usually quick to adopt Blue advancements.

It was startling at first, realizing that a life Louis had assumed was normal is actually anything but. It’s like having a spotlight pointed at his behaviors so he can see them in unbiased, stark detail for the first time. It's made Louis do a lot of thinking, because some things he's done all his life seem silly or strange when he has to explain them to other people.

And when Louis had told Niall he’d never tried bacon, Niall had nearly cried on his behalf.

Louis applied for a place at the Academy because he’d wanted to get away from the monotony of his life for just a little while before he had to pledge himself to Simon Cowell for good. In doing so, he’s gotten more than he ever dreamed: new friends and fantastic experiences and a chance to figure out who he is when he’s out from under Syco’s looming shadow. And now he knows there’s _more_ out there, he wants to do more with his life than just head back to Blue and build useless goods for gullible consumers anymore; he wants to travel, he wants to learn. He wants to see the Northern Lights over the Staðrmegin capital with Liam. He wants to spend a night exploring old haunted castles on Áitaeir with Niall, see the Jagaadeeli mosques and gardens with Zayn. He wants to see Eleanor and Sophia’s underwater cities and Pink’s sky domes.

Harry, who has taken to coming early to Blue’s classes just like Louis does with Green’s, is sitting in the very front row of the classroom, his hands folded on the table. He's probably drinking in every sentence out of Stan’s mouth, but he's staring right at Louis. Louis is staring back.

More than anything, Louis wants to see Nelahna. He wants to see the ancient mountains and rolling hills, the trees taller than skyscrapers. He wants to see their famous treehouses—he wants to see where Harry grew up, to meet his family and his childhood friends that maybe won’t hate him as much as Jeff does. He wants to see the ancient homes of the Green elders, the smokehouses and the Council buildings. He wants to see a starry night not marred by pollution, he wants to see flowers that Harry doesn’t have to grow because they’re there naturally.

Louis doesn’t want to spend his life tricking people out of money and secretly creating advanced weapons from his place underneath Simon’s thumb. Now that he’s seen that there’s more, more to see and more to do and more to _know_ , he can’t fathom returning to his old life like nothing’s changed. He wants something new, he wants something great.

And maybe, just maybe, Harry wants something great too.

Maybe he wants something great with Louis, because Louis definitely wants something great with him.

☄

“It’s sort of disgusting, isn’t it?” Niall says conversationally.

He, Liam, Zayn, Jade, and Jesy are watching Harry and Louis creep closer and closer to each other on the common room sofa they’d claimed earlier that night. Harry’s attempting to teach Louis his language, but it’s long devolved from learning to flirting, Harry’s hands soft when he positions Louis’ hands into the correct gestures.

“Okay,” Harry is saying, his voice little more than a low rumble. “When you’re greeting a woman of higher status, you say _siyo_ , and you do this.” He touches two fingers to his chest directly over his heart, then sweeps his hand outward. Louis mirrors him, his eyebrows furrowed and his voice quiet as he echoes, _siyo_.

“How do I know if someone is higher status than me?” he asks.

“Just assume everyone is,” Harry says with a smirk.

“Oi!” Louis says, but he’s grinning.

“So this,” Harry repeats the gesture, “is for a woman of higher status. For men, you do this.” He touches the same two fingers to his forehead, then bends his elbow to lower his hand slowly.

“What are we watching?” Perrie asks over Niall’s shoulder. “Ah, shoulda known.”

“It’s like, I don’t _actually_ want to see them make out,” Eleanor says, settling into Jesy’s lap in a nearby chair. “But I also sort of do? Like, for science.”

“Science, is that what they’re calling it now?” Niall asks dryly. “In my day, we called it porn.”

“Well, do you blame her?” Leigh-Anne says in a dreamy voice. “They’re both so pretty.”

“ _I’m_ pretty, and you don’t ask me to make out with anyone so you can watch,” Zayn pouts. Jesy pinches his cheek.

“Feel free, love. I’m sure Niall’s itching for a snog and you two’ll do in a pinch,” Jesy teases. Niall turns bright red and stutters out something that isn’t a complete sentence.

Louis is inching even closer to Harry, their knees touching. Harry’s tracing the lines of his palm, holding Louis’ small hand in his large one and slowly bending his fingers into a fist, leaving only the thumb out.

“And what’s that mean?” Louis asks.

Harry traces the veins on the underside of Louis’ wrist. “It means, um. It means I love you.”

Louis’ eyes are sparkly and wide, bluer than blue, when he says, “Oh.” It sounds like a rocket leaving the atmosphere, all the air gone from the room.

Niall, who has recovered from his choking fit, puts his hands behind his head and kicks his feet up on the table in front of them. “Well, lads, are you ready to pay up? Can’t be long now, and that bet will be all mine.”  

Liam elbows him in the side, but they’re all grinning as a pink-cheeked Harry releases Louis’ hand and stammers, “Erm, uh, and that’s um. That’s how you do that.”

☾

Time passes, as it tends to do, and so the fifth week at the Academy fades to the sixth, then the seventh. The whole group is friendly (except Calvin and Oli, though that’s their fault), but smaller cliques have formed, little factions of friends whose attachments are determined by complementary personalities rather than planet alliances. Harry finds himself ensconced among the little band of boys in the middle of all the fun and noise: it’s him, Niall, Zayn, Liam, and, of course, Louis. They’re nearly inseparable—where one goes, they all go. They sit together in classes and at meals and in the common room until late night turns into early morning, laughing and joking and teasing and forgoing sleep because they’re having too much fun to close their eyes and separate.

Harry doesn’t know how Louis is keeping Calvin from throwing a fit and reporting him for hanging out with someone from Green, but it seems like he hasn’t yet. Maybe it’s the same way Harry is getting around Jeff: by insisting that he’s mostly there to hang out with Niall, Zayn, and Liam, and Louis just happens to be there.

Which is completely untrue, of course, but Jeff and Calvin don’t have to know that.

It’s lunch now and lunches are usually held in a little area between the common room and the classroom, a little less formal than the circular table where they eat dinner. It gives people a chance to switch things up, to walk around and mingle if they like, though usually the boys stay in one place while others come to them. Liam says it’s because they’re usually the loudest, and people don’t want to miss out on the jokes. Niall says it’s animal magnetism. They usually throw things at Niall at that point.

“I’m just saying,” Liam says, deep in the middle of one of his heartfelt rants and twirling his fork through his spaghetti, “now that I’ve had pasta, how am I supposed to go back to a life without it? I don’t think I can.”

“Have the Gray boys ship you some,” Zayn suggests. “Can’t be that hard, right? Pasta is dried and won’t go bad until you add water, or at least I think so. You can grow tomatoes on Red, and there you go. You have pasta.”

“But… say I want pizza,” Liam says stubbornly. “Pizza can go bad over time, and it takes, like, three months to get supply shuttles from Gray. What do I do then? You don’t understand, guys. I need it.”

Niall takes a bite of a cookie, looking thoughtfully over at Louis. “Lou is making me this… what did you call it, Lou?”

Louis’ eyes go bright like they always do when he gets to talk about one of his projects. “It’s a compact refrigeration unit!” he says excitedly. “We’ve had cooling systems for shipping things from Blue for ages, but they’re all bulky and annoying. So I’m working on making one that can shrink itself down to be easier to carry and ship, but it won’t harm anything inside.”

“It’ll make sending fruit a lot easier because when it’s cold it takes longer for things to rot,” Niall says happily, “so I could take one of his invention things back to Orange and we could maybe start selling our stuff off-planet as well.”

“That’s amazing, Lou,” Zayn says.

“I just don’t want to go back to Blue without a way to get more of those strawberries,” Louis says, his cheeks pink from praise. “But anyway, Li, if I get it working in time, I’ll send a prototype and the blueprints back with the Gray boys as well so they can send you pizza anytime.”

“I think I love you, Tommo,” Liam says seriously. Harry throws a biscuit at his forehead, and Niall bursts into laughter.

They’re interrupted by a throat clearing, and Harry looks up to see Jeff standing behind him, his usual sneer for Louis nowhere in sight. “Harry,” he says carefully, “your mother wants you to call her.”

Harry swallows audibly, his throat clicking. “Yeah, okay,” he says, and his voice cracks. “I’ll be right there.”

Jeff nods, his lips pinched in a small, sad smile. When he’s gone, Harry is left with four pairs of curious eyes watching him.

“Well, um,” he says awkwardly. “I should probably… go do that.”

He stands, the chair sliding across the tile and scraping loudly in the silence at the usually boisterous table. Niall is picking pieces from his napkin, and Zayn is flicking the tines of his fork, and Liam is biting his lip and looking at his own shoes. Only Louis is outright watching him now, his pink lips pursed a little, his pretty brow furrowed. Harry can’t meet his eyes as he stands and brushes crumbs from his silk shirt.

Harry doesn’t talk about the situation he left back on Green when he came to the Academy. He just doesn’t. He talks about the forests, the hills and the valleys and the homes, the firelight ceremonies and the clear summer nights. He doesn’t talk about things that have changed lately, mostly because nobody knows enough to ask about it and Jeff and the others aren’t going to tell. He doesn’t talk about the fear, the thinly veiled panic.

He doesn’t want to inflict his troubles on anyone else. Even though, really, they aren’t just his troubles; they’re everyone’s, all of Nelahna is suffering. Still, he is the representative of the planet, and he doesn’t want to give off the illusion that they’re stuck in a situation with no way out.

Even though that’s exactly what is happening.

His eyes flicker back and catch Louis’, who is still watching him intently like he can read every change of expression.

Maybe it would do Harry some good to get his problems off his chest.

Harry coughs. “Lou?” he asks quietly. Liam, Niall, and Zayn’s eyes snap up like he was talking to them instead. He ignores them. “Would you like to meet my mum?”

“Yeah, Haz,” Louis answers just as softly, like he knows something is wrong. Well, of course he knows something is wrong, but it’s like he knows even more than he’s letting on. “I’d love to.”

They’re both silent as they leave the room, their arms knocking like they’re holding their own conversation. Harry leads the way back to the Yvgreen living quarters, the old laurel tree standing guard like always. Louis lays his palm on her bark and she untwists her trunk for them, opening the way to let them in. Louis takes his usual seat closest to the fireplace, a comfy, overstuffed cream-colored armchair, a bright pop of color against the brick backdrop.

Harry reaches into a little wooden case hidden in one of the end tables, flipping it open to reveal an old, long out-of-date comm unit. It’s boxy and clunky, nothing like the smooth, sleek device in Louis’ holster. He hesitates before he switches it on.

“I feel like I should explain,” he says carefully, “and I don’t want you to apologize, or anything like that, because there’s nothing that can be done, at least as far as we know. I just- I wanted to share this with you, like you shared your story with me. Just- just to get it off my chest.”

“Okay,” Louis says, his eyebrows still furrowed.

Harry takes a deep breath. “There’s. Um. There’s something happening on Nelahna. We’ve had it for a while, but for the past few years it’s been… serious. More serious, I guess. Some people are calling it an epidemic, but I think we won’t know if it is or not until, well. Until it’s all said and done, I s’pose.”

“What kind of epidemic?” Louis asks, scooting to the edge of his seat.

“We used to call it the summer sweats,” Harry says slowly, lacing and unlacing his fingers. “It always got bad in early summer, right when the weather turned hotter. People would get sick, lose their appetites and be really nauseous for a couple of days, have headaches and stuff. But it always went away—I even had it once, a few years back. Within a few days it was usually gone.”

“Okay,” Louis says, and he’s got his Thinking Face on, where he bites his lip and tilts his head and gets lost in his thoughts, visualizing the problem. “Doesn’t sound so bad. Like seasonal flu, or something?”

“Right, that’s what we thought. We could give out herbal teas and prescribe bed rest and in five or six days it was over and done. But then it got worse.” Harry tries not to think of overcrowded sick houses, the scorching summer sun beating down on the villages, oppressive heat leading to outbreak after outbreak. He tries not to think of the rolling humidity, so thick and heavy that walking outside was like swimming, people dropping like flies out in the streets. “People stopped getting better. They would relapse after a few days, it always came back, and it always got worse. They would have horribly high fevers, and a lot of vomiting blood. They’d turn all yellow, and they can’t keep food down. It’s… bad. Really bad.”

“Okay,” Louis says again. “But, surely, there has to be some sort of cure? If no other planet is dealing with a mass outbreak, there has to be something out there, right?”

“We don’t use medicines from other planets,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Nobody trusts them. We’ve always gotten by with using traditional remedies, herbs and plants and things like that.”

“I’m going to say something, and only because I think it’ll help,” Louis says, switching over to sit next to Harry on a sofa. “And I know I’m probably not the right person, or from the right place, to be saying this, but sometimes what always has worked won’t work forever. And maybe it’s time to look beyond herbs and potions or whatever.”

“We don’t use potions, Louis,” Harry huffs, smiling a little. “We aren’t _that_ old school.”

“You’re pretty old school,” Louis disagrees, chuckling.

“We’re traditional. That’s so much more dignified,” Harry sniffs, flipping his hair out of his eyes loftily before giggling. Then he remembers the comm unit still clenched in his hands, and he stops. “My mum got it. The summer sweats, or whatever it actually is. She got it a few months before I came here.”

Louis stops laughing too, his smile falling. “Oh, Harry.”

“She’s okay,” Harry rushes out, though his chest hurts and his voice is rough. “I mean, she’s stable. I wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t. But she was one of the ones that never got better, and she. Well. It’s hard, y’know?” His lip shakes, and he blinks away the first of a few tears. “To see her like that. She’s so strong, or. She used to be. She’s not anymore.”

“Haz,” Louis whispers, but doesn’t say anything. He slides his hand cautiously over Harry’s, his touch gentle. Harry doesn’t need gentle, he needs a lifeline; he flips his hand over and grabs Louis’ tight.

It’s a nice sort of silence that settles between them, the kind that doesn’t push for too much or ask for explanations. Louis holds Harry’s hand and it’s okay. It’s better than okay, it’s right. Things are right.

The comm unit seems lighter in Harry’s left hand.

Louis breaks the quiet. “Can I ask why you have a comm from the last century?”

Harry laughs, his smile wide. “We don’t have all that fancy new tech from Blue yet, but we make do. There’s a comm unit in my neighbor’s house back in my village, it’s sort of like the community unit, and that’s what we all use when we need to make or take a call. If you’re in the house and the comm rings, you answer it and take a message for whoever they were trying to reach.”

“Oh my nebula, it’s like you’re a caveman with fire,” Louis giggles. “Passing the torch on to your friends so they can have fire too.”

“Shut up,” Harry swats at him. “It’s actually Jeff’s dad’s, he’s an elder in our village. So like, he bought the comm way back when it was new, and then just… never bought another.”

Louis titters loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. “So where did this one come from?”

“Well, Jeff’s dad actually bought two. And this one is for anyone in the village who leaves for some reason but might need to stay in touch, and _stop laughing!_ ” Harry says, trying to hide his grin as Louis collapses, cackling. “It’s what we do, I’m serious!”

“This is better than the alarm clock,” Louis gasps, breathless with laughter.

Harry lets him laugh, powering on the comm unit and waiting for the simple old machine to start itself up. Louis’ new technology blows his mind, with its moves and maneuvers and bright screens that change before he even thinks to move his fingers. He’s comfortable with this, this comm that’s older than he is, and he’s always scared Louis’ delicate technology will break in his hands. He does likes watching Louis’ fingers move like blurs on his own screen, though, tapping and sliding wildly and producing ridiculous results.

The comm greets him with a tone that Louis declares “cheerfully vintage” and Harry selects the only number in the contact list. While it dials, Louis reaches over and coaxes the rusty, clunky device to send the image to the screen built into the wall so they won’t both have to look down at the tiny, faded picture on the old comm. He's still giggling about the device having buttons while Harry defends it when someone back on Nelahna answers the call.

“Harry!” cries a familiar voice. Harry looks up from where he's fending off a tickle attack from Louis to see a brilliantly grinning ginger raising a single eyebrow in his direction.

“Ed!” Harry cheers back. “How're you, mate?”

“Just fine, H, cheers. Worse off than you, I think,” he laughs, waggling his eyebrows. Harry groans and drops his head in his hands when Ed turns to give Louis an obvious once over. “And who’ll you be, then? Did Harry get himself a space boyfriend to keep him warm so far from home?”

“Something like that,” Louis says, his voice mischievous. “And are you the one keeping him warm when he's back home?”

“Don't need that here, mate, it's sweltering,” Ed laughs. “I'm Ed Sheeran, I hold the title of best friend.”

“I'm Louis Tomlinson,” Louis grins back. “And I hold the title of… space best friend? I don't know, just make up some important title for me in your head.”

“ _You're_ Louis?” Ed asks, leaning forward with interest. “Heard a bit about you from the others, though Harry here has been suspiciously mum each time you're brought up.”

“Has he now?” Louis asks, smirking at Harry. “I'm hurt, Harold. You're supposed to sing my praises to the stars, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh, I'll tell the stars,” Harry says. “I'm just not telling Ed. He'd hold anything I said over my head for the next decade.”

“Like when you fell out of the tree because you were serenading the moon?” Ed asks, grinning wickedly.

“You did _what?_ ” Louis asks delightedly.

“Ed!” Harry groans. “ _Please_.”

“You and me, friend, let's make a date to talk privately,” Ed says, motioning to himself and Louis. “I've got years of stories.”

“Definitely,” Louis laughs, his expression so bright and happy he's gone crinkly-eyed.

Ed looks offscreen for a minute, frowning a little before nodding and reaching for the comm unit, the image on the screen tilting a little as Ed walks somewhere new.

“Your mum’s awake, H,” Ed says. “Ready?”

Harry flexes his fingers, tugging at his shirt and clearing his throat before he nods. He feels the softest touch to the back of his knuckles, then Louis slides his hand into Harry’s, his small fingers sliding naturally in the gaps between Harry’s.

Harry feels his breath catch when Ed moves the comm to the side of his mum’s bed, propping it up so she won't have to hold it. Her hair is piled up on top of her head in a lank knot, sweaty tendrils framing her face. Her skin is still tainted that same sickly yellow color it has been for months, though she's at least sitting on her own this time—last time Harry had called, Ed had to prop her up through the whole call with a solid arm around her waist.

Her face brightens when she sees Harry, though, and it makes a world of difference. The wrinkles around her eyes seem less pronounced, her pallid complexion brightening to something more healthy. “Hello, love,” she says happily.

“Hey, Mum,” Harry answers. “You look good. How are things?”

“Oh, same old,” she says, waving an airy hand. “It’s hot and humid—you haven't been gone that long, you know what to expect from an Yvgreen summer. Let's talk about you.”

“Well-”

“I changed my mind,” his mum says, grinning sharply and cutting him off. “Let's talk about your friend. Hello, dear, sorry I didn't dress up but it's hotter than hell out here,” she says to Louis, who grins brightly.

“Um, _siyo_ ,” he says carefully, touching two fingers to his heart and sweeping his hand outward just like Harry taught him. “ _Dagwado_ Louis.”  

“Aren't you polite,” she says, and Harry recognizes that sparkle of approval in her eyes. Harry’s impressed, too: Louis has picked up Harry’s language faster than Harry thought he would, and now is just as likely to rattle off quick, simple phrases in Yvgreen as he is in the Common Tongue. Jeff had nearly fallen over one day in class when Harry was teasing Louis and he shot back a quick  _asdudi_ to tell Harry to shut up. “I'm Anne. I hope you're taking care of my baby, all alone up there in space.”

“I'm definitely trying,” Louis grins.

“Good,” Anne nods, then breaks off into a horrible coughing fit. Her hand is frighteningly red when she pulls it away from her mouth, though she shrugs it off and wipes the blood away with a towel.

“Sorry to interrupt, everyone,” Ed’s voice reappears from offscreen, “but it's medicine time for lovely Anne. She can call you back later if she needs to, H.”

“Oh, don't bother with me,” Anne waves at Harry. “You go, have fun with Louis and all your other friends. I'll try and call again soon.”

Harry nods and waves, promising he loves her and he'll call soon. Ed takes the comm unit and walks away.

“How is she, really?” Harry asks. Ed grimaces.

“It's the same as always, Hazza, you know that. Until we find something new, all we can do is keep her stable.”

“Right. Thanks, Ed. Talk to you soon.”

Ed nods and Harry ends the call, replacing the comm back in its box and stowing it away. Louis is quiet next to him.

“You know, when you said she's not strong anymore, I was expecting some weak, broken person,” Louis says after a moment. “But she's still so strong, Harry. She's clearly fighting so hard.”

“I guess I don't see it that way,” Harry shrugs. “Because she's so small and weak compared to what she used to be.”

“Well,” Louis says, shuffling over to press his leg against Harry's, “I look at her and I see strength. She's clearly a wonderful person, Haz. I see where you get it.”

Harry smiles and squeezes Louis’ hand.

☆

Louis has a specific ringtone for Simon on his comm unit, a loud, brash buzz that only old people back on Blue use as their main ringtone.

Louis thinks it’s fitting.

He doesn’t hear it much, but as week seven slides on into week eight at the Academy, Louis starts hearing it more and more. Sometimes he ignores it because he has a reason—he’s in class, or he’s at a meal, or he’s with the boys in the common room or one of the living quarters. Most of the time he doesn’t have a reason, but he ignores the calls just because he doesn’t want to talk to Simon.

Harry knows, his brow furrowing unhappily when that same discordant ringtone starts chiming in Louis’ holster. And Stan knows, of course; he hasn’t been told the specifics of Louis’ contract and work with Simon, but he knows enough to understand that what Louis keeps a secret is for his own protection. Between the two of them, they tend to steal Louis’ comm unit out of his holster and hide it away when they hear Simon trying to call so Louis couldn’t possibly answer.

Louis likes them both a whole lot.

Louis can’t avoid Simon forever, though, and eventually he has to answer when he calls. He waits until he’s in the common room with the whole group (so he can use one of them for an excuse if he needs to end the conversation), settled in a corner by himself but close to the boys, tracing patterns in the carpet as the call rings in. He squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment when he answers.

“Hey, Simon,” he says weakly, waving awkwardly at the angry little image of Simon’s face on his comm screen. The common room noise is a nice background to the uncomfortable silence between them.

“Tomlinson,” he says. “You must have been busy.”

“Erm, well. Yeah, pretty busy,” Louis says, uneasy. “Classes and such, you know.”

“Just classes?” Simon asks, raising a single eyebrow. “Have you done any real work?"

“Oh. Yeah, I have,” Louis says. “I’m building a self-compacting refrigeration unit, based on the ones in the food shipping containers back home? A friend of mine thinks his family farm could use them to ship food off-planet.”

“You’re building a refrigerator for a farmer,” Simon says flatly.

“Well, a self-compacting-”

“I heard you the first time.” Simon sighs, rubbing at the spot between his eyes. “I think you should refocus your attentions back on something more worthwhile. Are there any other devices or advancements you’ve seen while you were there? Anything you’d like to bring back at all?”

Louis’ eyes flicker over to where Niall, Liam, and Harry are attempting to throw crisps into each other’s mouths simultaneously and failing horribly. Niall’s green gravity-manipulating bracelet catches the light with each of his throws. Louis forces his eyes back to the comm.

“Nope. Not really a surprise though, is it? We’re usually ahead of everyone else anyway.”

Simon’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t send you there for a vacation, Tomlinson, this is real field work meant to determine what the other planets are wanting to buy from us or what we can find to make on our own to turn a profit. Don’t you-”

“Lou!” Harry crows, fist pumping. “We did it, look!”

“ _Asdudi_ ,” Louis says, waving his hand and rolling his eyes fondly. Harry just grins, happier to be told to shut up than most people would be. Then Louis realizes what he’s done.

“What did you just say?” Simon asks loudly, his voice so angry it’s almost incredulous. “Are you learning other languages? Is that what you’re wasting your time doing?”

“Simon, no-”

Simon laughs harshly. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go. A complete waste of time and brain cells, and now you’ll be three months behind at your job when you get back.”

Louis sees Harry’s foot kick out from the corner of his eye, catching Liam in the shin. Then the three of them are looking Louis’ direction as he shrinks in on himself, feeling his happiness and security from being far away from Simon chipping away with each new word.

“I’ve let you run amock up there for two months now,” Simon is ranting, “taking over the classes when Calvin didn’t want to do them and ignoring my calls. You better have something to show for your time there when you get back, and it had better not be three months of language lessons from some idiots from Orange or Red or wherever-”

Simon’s face disappears—Harry grabs Louis’ comm unit from his hand, holding it like a dirty sock or a spider as he turns the device to face himself.

“ _Siyo_ ,” Harry says, the corner of his mouth twisted a little. “I’m an idiot from Green, actually.”  

Louis can’t see Simon’s face anymore, but he can just imagine the apoplectic red he’s probably turning as he sputters, “Who- what- _where are you from_ -”

“Louis won’t be calling you back,” Harry answers simply. He ends the call with a flourish and tosses the device to Jade, who immediately stuffs it in her pocket. Harry settles in front of Louis on the floor, Niall, Zayn, and Liam already hugging Louis from the other three sides.

Louis laughs, shaking his head. He feels a little numb, but that’s better than being scared. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”

“But is it worth it?” Harry asks.

Louis presses his thumb into the middle of Harry’s palm. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

☾

“When are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and the Bluetyp?” Jeff asks one day.

Harry lays aside the journal he was scribbling in, feeling his shoulders tense in anticipation. He’s surprised it took Jeff this long to ask outright, honestly; he wants to not have to answer, to shake Jeff off like he usually does with a promise that it’s nothing. Somehow, though, those kinds of non-answers sting on his tongue, ring like falsities in his ear. He doesn’t want to have to lie anymore.

“Jeff…” he sighs instead. “Do we have to do this?”  

Jeff’s eyes narrow. “What do you know? What has he told you?”

Harry turns for the first time to look at his friend. “What do _you_ know?” Then it clicks. “Oh, of course. You know about the supply ships. That’s why you hate them, isn’t it?”

“There are a lot of reasons to hate people from Blue,” Jeff says after a quiet minute. “But he’s told you? That they’re shooting down our supplies so we might starve?”

“Louis is not the one pulling the trigger, Jeff,” Harry say, irate. “I know we have a history with that planet, but we can’t condemn a whole race of people because of the bad choices of a few powerful men.”

“But he knew about it. Your precious Louis, he knew,” Jeff points out. “Maybe it’s not the average Bluetyp pulling the trigger, but if they all know and they’re just too apathetic about our fate to do anything, is that any better?”

“They don’t all know, it’s-” Harry stops, remembering Louis’ worry about people knowing the role he's played in it all. “It’s complicated. And I can’t tell you more than that, but it’s not the same war that we thought it was. This isn’t Green versus Blue, it’s Green versus Blue’s government. And that’s completely different.”

“He could be telling you what you want to hear,” Jeff says quietly. Harry shakes his head.

“He wouldn’t.” He lifts his head, looks Jeff straight in the eye. “If I ask you to, will you trust me? Will you let me figure out a solution? Because I think it can be done, but not if you’re hovering over my shoulder, waiting for him to make a mistake.”

“What do you mean, a solution?” Jeff asks warily. “This isn’t a simple problem that will just go away if you and him shake hands and make a cute little alliance of your own. This a centuries-long war, Harry.”

“And I’m trying to end it!” Harry blazes, standing. “I know what’s at stake, I know our history. But we won’t win anything if it continues, and we don’t have the resources to fight a war and an epidemic at once."

Jeff stares at Harry for a long time. Harry doesn’t know what he sees, but it must be enough.

“Fine,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “Fine. Try and figure something out. On your own head be it.”

He stands, about to leave Harry to his tumultuous thoughts, but he turns in the doorway at the last minute.

“He’s your _usdi noqsi_ , then?” he grins, a familiar flicker of that brotherly affection Harry is used to. Harry bites his lip and blushes.

“Think so, yeah.”

Jeff nods a little, smiling ruefully. “I hope it works out then, H. You deserve the best."

☆

“Mum, are you there?” Louis calls, his comm’s connection going staticky. Jay’s face wavers on the screen, her mouth moving but the words lost. “Hold on, one second.” He taps a few buttons, recalibrating his connection. His mum’s face grows clearer, her words fading in.

“... little clearer, darling. Oh, there we go! Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Mum. How’re things? How’re the girls?”

“Good, good,” Jay smiles. “And Stan, hello love! It’s been an age, I thought Lou must’ve annoyed you into taking a space walk with no helmet.”

Stan grins, sprawled across Louis’ bed and fiddling with his own comm. “Not yet. Hello, Jay, you look gorgeous as ever."

“No Harry this time?” Jay asks Louis, ignoring his quick shake of the head, his hand across his throat telling her to stop talking.

“Harry’s met your mum?” Stan asks, eyes glittering as he sits up. “This is news.”

“He was in Louis’ bed!” Jay adds, wide-eyed for the full scandalized effect. “There I was, minding my own business, and Lou calls me up with a boy in his bed!”

“He wasn’t in my bed!” Louis squawks. “Quit telling people that!”

“Oh my nebula, Louis, you bad boy,” Stan cackles. “Wait’ll the rest of the group hears this. Niall will have a heart attack.”

“Don’t,” Louis warns. “If Calvin hears…”

That shuts them up, both Stan and Jay watching Louis with identical looks of chagrin.

“Sorry, bro,” Stan says.  

Louis waves him off. “I did actually want to talk to you both for a reason.”

“What, calling your mother isn’t enough of a reason?”

“I call you every day, Mum, this is different.” Louis takes a deep breath, picks at his fingers. “If I describe a disease to you, do you think you’d be able to identify it without looking at an actual patient?”

Jay nods, though she looks confused. “Probably so. We could narrow it down, at least.”

“I’ve got my old school tablets here too, if we need them,” Stan adds, though his brow is furrowed in confusion as well.

“Okay,” Louis says, rubbing his hands together. “So. It’s like, really widespread on another planet. And they call it the summer sweats, because it always gets worse when the weather gets hot. But basically, people get nauseous and achy and lose their appetite for a few days, then they get better. Or, they used to, and now people aren’t getting better anymore, and they’re turning, like yellowish? And coughing and puking up blood."

Stan and Jay stare at him, their mouths both open a little. “Wow,” Stan says. “Erm. Wow. That’s intense.”

“It is,” Jay agrees, her eyes worried. “We haven’t had anything like that on Blue in ages, love, so I don’t know how much help we’ll be.”

“But before vaccines and things,” Louis says. “There had to have been widespread illnesses of some sort, right?”

Stan runs to fetch his medical tablets. “Here,” he says, thrusting one of the thin electronic books at Louis. “They have search functions, we’ll be able to search by symptoms.”

They wade through dozens of different diagnoses, calling out different ideas when they come across potential diseases or short-term illnesses that match some of their criteria, but not all. Jay flips through her own battered tablets from her school days, the touchscreens dingy and worn.

“There’s got to be something we’re missing,” she says at one point. “It happens in summer, you said?”

“That’s what Harr- I mean, that’s what my friend said,” Louis says, flustered. Stan rolls his eyes.

“You can say Harry’s name, Lou,” Stan chuckles. “It became pretty obvious which planet you were talking about when you started listing symptoms of some ancient, horrible disease we haven’t dealt with in a few millenia.”

“Ancient disease,” Jay repeats thoughtfully. “I wonder if maybe we should start looking in lists of eradicated diseases? We’ve been looking at ones that we still know how to treat, but if it’s something we eliminated generations ago, it wouldn’t still be in our current medical information.” She reaches for another tablet, powering it on and flicking through the pages.

“I was thinking it could end up being something specific to Green,” Stan adds. “This might not be something we’ve ever dealt with because it originates from there. Like, they have to deal with diseases from animals and stuff too, and we don’t have those.”

“That’s it!” Jay says, clapping loudly. Louis and Stan jump, twisting to look at her. “Yellow fever!”

“I don’t know what that is,” Louis admits, turning to see Stan shrug as well.

“We eradicated it centuries back,” Jay explains, reading from her text. “It’s an infectious virus, spread through mosquito bites.”

“What kind of bites?”

“Some sort of insect, I think,” Jay says. “Definitely the type of thing our government would have had wiped out.”

“So we did it?” Louis asks excitedly.

“We did it!” Stan cheers.

“Now what?” Louis bounces. “There must be a cure, right?”

Jay grins on screen, a shrewd smile Louis can feel mirrored on his own face. “Give me a few days. I’ll get something for you.”

☄

Niall has been in a floating hunk of space metal and asteroid-proof glass for eight weeks.

Now, eight weeks has been a long enough time for Niall to get to do and see a lot of things. He’s eaten a lot of delicious food he’d never even heard of before, and drank a lot of fizzy champagne that tastes twice as good as beer but takes twice as long to get him tipsy. He’s learned more about people and cultures and the universe around him than he ever thought possible. He’s discovered things about himself, about why he is the person he is and the little pieces of his own culture that made him that way, and he’s grown stronger in his convictions while learning to listen to others for theirs as well.

He’s met a beautiful boy with gold in his eyes and glitter in his veins, a boy who kisses like an angel and smirks like the devil.

All of this has happened in eight weeks, which just goes to show that in two months, almost everything can change.

Almost.

“How have they not declared passionate love for each other yet?” Niall fumes, waving his hand at Louis and Harry. They’re feeding each other grapes, for fuck’s sake. But, they aren’t just feeding each other—they’re feeding each other _innocently_ , with big doe eyes and pink cheeks and giggles. Fucking sickening.

“I mean, Harry told me he thinks he loves Louis, like, weeks ago,” Liam shrugs. “Maybe Louis is taking a while to catch on.”

They look back over at the not-a-couple; Louis is biting his lip and holding Harry’s hand like it’s made of meteorite diamonds, like it’s too precious for his bare skin.

“I think he knows,” Zayn chuckles.

Niall pouts. He’s one day out from losing the bet, and he’s not gonna get a new fur coat and some new vases for his mam because Tommo can’t commit? Not on his fucking watch.

He pounces the moment the two not-in-love lovebirds separate: Perrie pulls Harry over to a group of giggling girls who want him to teach them how to braid flowers into their hair, and Louis is left staring after him with a dopey grin on his face. Niall walks over and smacks him on the back of the head.

“What the hell!” Louis whines, rubbing the spot where Niall’s knuckles hit.  

Niall doesn’t let Louis’ stupid adorable pouty face distract him. “Are you in love with Harry?”

Louis gapes at him. “ _What?”_

“Are you in love with Harry?” Niall demands. “Don’t lie to me, Louis. This is important."

“Shit, Niall,” Louis whispers, looking around frantically. “Why? Why would you- _why?_ ”

“Lou,” Niall says, grabbing him by the shoulders. “It doesn’t matter why. It doesn't even matter how. What matters is that you sit the fuck down, and think my question the fuck over. Got it?”

He pushed Louis down onto a nearby sofa, but he's heeding Niall’s not-quite advice and thinking it the fuck over. His eyes are flicking back and forth like he's reading from an invisible book, like he's piecing together eight weeks of laughter and tears and a relationship blooming without him even realizing it.

Or, at least, that had _better_ be what he's thinking about.

“I want him to kiss me,” Louis whispers in abject horror just a few moments later. “When did that happen, Ni? I thought he was just my best friend.”

“He can be both,” Niall says, patting Louis’ leg sympathetically.

“He's all I think about,” Louis says, like he’s trying to tick classic symptoms of love off of a list instead of describing his actual life. “I'm risking my job, my _life_ back on Blue to spend time with him. I want him to meet my mother in person. I want to argue with him over which one of you idiots will be _my_ best man at our wedding and which will be _his_. I want to wake up next to him in a treehouse for the rest of my life. What the-”

“Oh, shit,” Niall says, thumping Louis on the back when Louis starts to hyperventilate. “C’mon, Lou, breathe for me.”

Louis calms down eventually, thanks to deep, deep breathing and fortifying swigs from Niall's ever-present flask.

“What do I do?” Louis asks. His hand is clutching at Niall's forearm like a vice. “Niall. What the hell do I _do?_ ”

“You tell him,” Niall says decisively. “Soon. Does tonight work for you? I can go fetch him, if you’d like.”

Louis recoils. “No! I can't do that, no. No, definitely not, no.”

“Yes, you can,” Niall says patiently.

Louis shakes his head violently. “Nope.” He stands up, brushing anxiously at the faux-leather of his uniform. “No. No, I can't. No.”

And then he walks away, stumbling out of the common room dazedly, still muttering negatives under his breath.

“Interesting tactic,” Liam says over Niall's shoulder, both of them watching Louis wobble out the door. “Ambush him with the truth and then point him in Harry's direction so he'll spill without thinking. Bold choice.”

“Can't believe it didn't work,” Zayn marvels sarcastically. “I would totally think that Louis, who is facing more pressure over being here than anyone else, would just go up to Harry and say, ‘Hey, Niall just pointed out that I’m in love with you. Would you like a snog?’”

“It could've worked,” Niall grumbles. “There was like a 50-50 chance of that working.”

Zayn kisses the side of his head and pats his arm, smiling at Niall’s disgruntled expression. “You're totally right, babes. Definitely could have maybe happened. Maybe.”

☾

Despite Louis’ jokes to the contrary, Harry _does_ know science. He may not be well-versed in circuit boards and touchscreens and giga… hertz? He’s pretty sure that’s a thing. Memory boards. _Wires_. He may not know much about all that, but he knows his basics. Every herbal remedy he'd helped concoct back on Nelahna was always meticulously measured and crafted, and he knows basic chemistry and what to expect when mixing different substances.

And he knows nature, biology, that whole section of science that Blue just doesn't bother teaching its students. Not to go all deep and spiritual, but he’s basically one with his planet—he knows how to trace a disease back to its source within a tree’s roots, he’s helped nurse countless pets and animals back to health, he can identify a plant disease from a single glance.

So he’s feeling a little confident when he sits down at a table in the Nelahna living quarters, a bright light pointed down at one of the disgusting Blue water samples Jay had sent to Louis. It’s almost like sludge: the water is thick, viscous, and an unnatural greenish-brown. Harry’s stomach turns when he imagines anyone ingesting it.

“Whatcha doing, Hazza?” Cara asks, skipping over to him when she, Glenne, and Jeff find him in the living quarters. She hugs him round the neck and props her chin on his shoulder.

“Eurgh, what is that?” Glenne asks.

“It’s a water sample from Blue,” Harry says, stirring it a little with a stick he’d broken off the spruce tree growing in his bedroom.

“You’re joking,” Cara says. “That’s disgusting!”

“It’s, like, polluted and stuff. And I think there’s a way to fix it, but I don’t even know where to start.”

“Why do you need to fix it?” Glenne asks. She pokes the plastic cup and cringes when it almost splashes over on her. “You can’t fix water, H. It isn’t broken.”

“But there has to be a way to counteract this somehow,” Harry says, gesturing to the sludge. “People can’t drink this, they’ll die.”

“So?” Cara asks carelessly. “It’s from Blue, right? They did it to themselves.”

Jeff snorts from across the room, where he’s been trying to look like he isn’t listening. Glenne shoots him a glance, then whips her head back around to look at Harry. “This is about your little pet Bluetyp, isn’t it?” she asks delightedly. “Did you want to impress the little genius with some pretty clear water or something?”

“Look at him blush!” Cara coos, pinching Harry’s cheeks.

“I really want to help!” Harry tries to say, but the girls aren’t having it.

“He gets all fluttery when you grow him flowers, why don’t you stick with that, love?” Cara says.

Harry drops his head in his hands. He didn’t expect them to get it, not really, but he still thought he’d be able to get away with doing something nice for a boy he’s more than a little in love with. Harry and Louis haven’t talked about what happens at the end of their time at the Academy; Harry’s trying not to think about it at all, if he’s being honest, but he knows at the end of the day that he has to go home and so does Louis. And if this is all of Harry that Louis can take with him when he goes back to Blue—a little bit of clear water and a solution to fix the rest of it—maybe it’ll be enough to remember Harry by.

“Jeff,” Harry pleads after another minute. “Please.”

Jeff looks up from inspecting his nails, taking one look at Harry’s face and sighing in defeat. “Glenne, Cara,” he says, “leave him alone. He likes the boy, let him do something nice.”

“You _like_ him?” Cara immediately asks, grinning widely. When Harry freezes, her wicked smile drops. “Oh no, Hazza, you actually do, don’t you?"

“I think I love him,” Harry mumbles, and Cara and Glenne immediately wrap him in a hug.

“We thought you were being funny, dove,” Glenne promises. “We wouldn’t have poked fun if we knew."

“I just want to do something for him before we have to leave,” Harry says, nodding at the water sample. “I can fix this, I just have to figure out how.”

Cara arches her eyebrow, bites her lip. “You can’t just give him a blowjob and call it a day?”

Harry coughs, spluttering, and Glenne giggles while she pounds on his back to help clear his airways. “Erm, no, Cara, but thank you.”

“Not quite there yet?” she asks sympathetically.

“We haven’t even kissed, I can't just-” Harry says, then shakes his head. “No, nope. We aren’t talking about this. I’m going to figure this water problem out and that’s it."

An hour passes while Harry stares at the water, watching the murky depths spin when he stirs it but his mind otherwise blank. He knows a thousand ways to fix a hundred thousand types of plants, but water? He’s never had to fix water before, didn’t know there was a way to ruin it, even. And, for all Louis’ talk of superpowers, he’s not _actually_ magic; he can grow a tree, but the tree can’t clean the water either so he'd be right back to square one.

When he says this to Jeff, all he gets is a shrug in return. “Maybe we should stick to plants, then,” he says.

“Stick to plants,” Harry says, tracing the edge of the plastic cup. An idea hits like a bolt of lightning. “Plants,” he says again, rocketing to his feet. “Plants, Jeff!”

“I heard,” Jeff says, alarmed. “What about them?”

“Plants can clean water!” Harry says, pushing up his sleeves. “Water lilies purify water surfaces, and cannas and rushes clean shorelines!” He pushes away from the table, digging out a larger dish for the water and pouring it in. “They don’t have plants on Blue, so they don’t have anything natural fighting back against the pollution. It might work!”

He curls his fingers, feeling the tingling well of energy in his fingertips. He touches the bottom of the dish, the water only coming up to his second knuckle, and the long stalk of a rush plant begins to grow. He leaves that and touches next to it, sprouting a couple of golden cannas, then moving to the center of the dish and growing some lilies and water poppies. He keeps them miniaturized, the rushes no more than six inches tall when normally they’d come up to his waist at least, and the poppy and lily flowers no bigger than his thumb. It’s like a tiny ecosystem under his fingertips, the water rippling as the plants shift and grow.

“I’ll sprinkle in some soil later, just to make sure the plants stay alive long enough to check the results,” Harry says happily. “But I think this could work!”

“You know what, H?” Jeff says, smiling and clapping him on the the shoulder. “It actually could.”

☄

A jovial group of friends are in the Yellowi living quarters, spread out on the silk-lined furniture and chatting, soaking up precious time together and too cheerful to consider parting ways and heading for bed. Perrie and Stan are topping off their glasses of wine over on the loveseat and Eleanor is painting Jade’s nails while Jesy watches. Liam and Leigh-Anne are in the middle of a spirited discussion about animal welfare (with Harry piping in intermittently, adding useless but adorable comments like “I had a pet deer named Layla until I was twelve,” and “Liam’s favorite animal is a wolf, isn’t that cool?”) and Niall, Harry, and Louis are with Zayn on a gorgeously soft rug in the middle of the room. Zayn is sleepily content, his head on Niall’s shoulder as they giggle over remembering Louis’ reaction to learning about Niall’s air walking abilities.

“I just can’t believe I was shocked when you started floating up into the air when I _knew_ your stupid living quarters door was, like, halfway to the ceiling,” Louis says, gesturing expansively with his hands. Harry beams behind him, Louis sat between his legs even though they aren’t actually touching.

“Yeah, that probably shoulda given it away, mate,” Niall laughs. Zayn feels his stomach flip; when Niall laughs, the galaxy gets a little brighter and Zayn’s mouth gets a little drier. “And Zayn’s, too, I don’t know how anyone could use a mirror to guard a door any other way.”

“To be fair, I didn’t get it either and I knew what he could do,” Harry says. Zayn smirks, stretching a little.

“It’s an old Jagaadeeli trick,” he shrugs. “Especially back when we had a lot of refugees from the Alliance wars, that’s how we kept non-Yellowi people from trying to get into our houses or whatever.”

Yellow’s living quarters are guarded by a single mirror with the image of a generic person inside, like an unchanging reflection. The door won’t unlock until the person looking into the mirror looks the same as the reflection inside; since only the Yellowi people can face-change, anyone who doesn’t match the image exactly won’t be able to get in. It can take a while to get it right, especially since every detail matters: Zayn had once been locked out of his grandfather’s house because he thought the mirror image had brown eyes, not hazel. He’d face-changed a dozen times trying to get it right, wiping away frustrated tears until he finally figured it out. Louis had thrown a fit when he  discovered how the door worked, mad at himself for not seeing it.

“The worst was Red’s, though,” Zayn laughs and Liam looks up from his own conversation, grinning.

After seeing the way Harry, Niall, and Zayn had to use their evolutions to get into their living quarters and expecting something fantastic, Louis had been thoroughly unimpressed with Red’s single massive door handle. “That’s it?” he’d said when he saw it. “You just use your super-strength to turn the really big handle, and that’s all it takes?”

Liam had shrugged, shaking out his arms and rolling his neck like getting ready to exercise. He’d clenched and unclenched his fingers before laying them on the handle.

Louis’ shocked expression at the quiet beep and automated voice saying, “ _Welcome, Liam Payne,_ ” had been hilarious. Liam had removed his thumb from the fingerprint reader and turned the handle easily, bowing low to let an incensed Louis inside.

He’s red-faced again now as the boys laugh at him, Leigh joining in because literally everyone has heard the story by now and literally everyone also loves to bring it up. “I didn’t think Red had that technology yet!” he cries, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Read a book?” Niall suggests.

“Talk to an actual person from Red, maybe?” Liam adds. Louis throws a pillow at him.

“So how does your door work?” Louis asks, turning to Leigh. She flutters her fingers at him, grinning.

“We have specifically coded DNA based on our specialties. Like, the stuff we can manipulate, you know? Everyone is a little different, so we gave DNA samples before we came and they were programmed into the door.”

“But how can your DNA be different if you’re the same species?”

“Well, like my specialty is water, that’s what I can manipulate, so my DNA has water molecules woven in,” Leigh says, like it’s no big deal.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard,” Louis says, wide-eyed.

“What can you do with water?” Harry asks, sitting up a little straighter.

Leigh grins and points her finger at the glass in his hands. The water rises out of it, swirling and twisting into shapes in mid-air. She twirls her fingers again and the water slides smoothly back into the glass. All five boys are gaping in awe.

“You think I’m good? Jesy’s been working on hers for years,” Leigh laughs.

“Jess! Show us your superpower!” Louis calls across the room. Jesy rolls her eyes but points at a table up against the furthest wall. The cutlery stands on its own, levitating across the room so it’s hovering in front of her face. She mimes a ripping motion in the air and the silverware rips right down the middle like it’s made of paper, then she clenches her fist and the pieces compact themselves into a palm-sized ball. She tosses it over to Louis, who runs his fingers over the smooth shape that used to be a bunch of forks and spoons in wonder.

“I feel so inferior right now,” Niall says blankly, poking at the ball. Jesy laughs.

“Well I can’t fly, so there we are.”

“Jade can do cotton,” Leigh says.

“Can’t now, though,” Jade says apologetically, holding up her hands. “Nails are still wet, sorry.”

“And you do silk, Perrie?” Harry asks.

She giggles, her wine glass mostly empty. “Yes, and I’ve wanted to do this all day.” She points her finger at Harry’s shirt and the excess fabric folds itself over like it’s being hemmed—when she’s finished, the shirt is form-fitting and hugs his curves, and Louis looks like he’s been hit by a space shuttle, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

“You’re welcome, Lou,” she trills, and Louis turns red. Zayn and Niall exchange a quick look, a subtle _for fuck’s sake_ they can both read easily.

Zayn considers himself to be a good person. He doesn’t lie unless it’s for good reason, he doesn’t steal, he’s never purposefully hurt anyone. He recycles and volunteers for charities. He’s, like, awesome.

However, watching Harry and Louis continue to dance around each other when they _both_ know they love each other but are also both scared of being rejected makes him want to burn the Academy to ash. When Harry speaks it’s like Louis’ world slows down and he can stop, just for a moment, to take a deep breath. And when Louis moves, Harry’s eyes follow him like a shadow, like they’re hooked on his hands and his waist and the shape of his thighs, like Louis is more important than anything else in the universe.

They love each other so much that it hurts to look at them when they look at each other, but they still don’t see it for themselves.

It’s not even about the bet anymore; Zayn just wants his new friends to be happy.

Well, he also really wants to win the bet. But mostly the happiness.

Zayn snuggles into Niall’s side and wonders if there’s any way they can help.

☆

“So,” Louis says one day, perching on the edge of Harry’s chair in the common room. Harry is staring down Zayn, a board filled with little wooden tiles spelling out words between them. Harry slowly lays down four new tiles next to an S (spelling out _MOONS_ for seventeen points, apparently) and looks up at Louis and smiles.

“What’s up, _usdi noqsi_?”

“I’ve sort of run out of topic ideas for class,” Louis says, and Harry chuckles.

“You? Running out of things to say? Never.”

“I mean, I could get up there and talk for a couple of hours about what’s on my mind, but I can’t promise anything educational. Or intelligent,” Louis deadpans. Harry chuckles, reaching into a little bag and pulling out four more letters.

“What do you need me for?"

“I was looking at the topics Calvin had left to go over, and most of them are the most boring things I’ve ever read,” Louis explains, wiggling a little to get comfortable. “But the one for the last day of class isn’t bad, so I think I’m gonna do it.”

“Is it the last class already?” Zayn asks, brow furrowed as he looks up from his own letters. “Holy shit.”

“I mean, it’s week twelve, yeah?” Louis says. “So we’ve got our last classes up until Wednesday, the farewell ball on Thursday, and the planet presentations Friday.”

“Damn,” Zayn says, slouching back in his seat. “Crazy how fast it all went, isn’t it?”

Louis smiles thinly, trying not to look at Harry. It _is_ crazy; it’s also crazy that somehow, over the course of less than three months together, Harry and the other boys became an inseparable part of his life. Louis hasn’t given any thought to returning to Blue; he knows how hard it’s going to be to leave this behind, and if he thinks about it too much, he might just refuse to go.

“So what’s your last lesson plan?” Harry asks, breaking the quiet. Louis shakes his head to ward away the melancholy and clears his throat.

“ _Kaffee un kuchen_ ,” Louis says.

“Bless you,” Zayn mumbles.

Louis throws an A tile at Zayn. “It’s coffee and cake, idiot.” He turns back to Harry. “But I’ve never made a cake before.”

Harry looks up at Louis, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to make me show you how?”

Louis flutters his lashes and pouts his lip, and all is lost.

Louis sneaks out of the Blue quarters just after two o’clock in the morning; Stan’s snoring can be heard from the Nebula probably, and Calvin and Oli’s doors are locked up tight, but Louis still steps lightly across the room just in case they aren’t asleep yet. He’s hauling the refrigeration unit, the one he’s been trying to miniaturize for Niall, and he winces as he knocks it into a table and a lamp clatters to the ground, pausing for a moment to make sure he didn’t wake anyone. He makes his not-so-sneaky way out into the hallway where Harry stands, blinking sleepily.

“‘lo,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. He’s so cute Louis almost drops the refrigeration unit on his foot.

“Um,” Louis coughs. “Hi. Um. Yeah, hey.”

Harry yawns, stretching up onto his toes and lifting his shirt up to expose a jutting hipbone.

Louis drops the refrigeration unit.

The kitchen is on the lowest deck; it’s empty but brightly lit, the lights reflecting off the dozens of stainless steel… things everywhere.

“What’s this?” Louis asks, poking at a bowl with some sort of mixing thing attached.

“A mixer,” Harry answers. Well. Makes sense.

“Ah. And what’s this?” he points to something with a hand crank and wheels. Harry grabs his hand.

“Louis. I adore you, but it is late and we have to be up early,” Harry says, his voice slower than syrup.

Louis, whose brain is stuck repeating _I adore you I adore you_ over and over, nods in astonishment.

They’re making a [chocolate layer cake](http://www.food.com/recipe/authentic-black-forest-cake-schwarzwald-kirsch-kuchen-343698) with whipped cream and cherries, which apparently is a Blue delicacy even though Louis has never heard of it. Harry leads them through it, having Louis read out the instructions from the cold-resistant recipe tablet that had been packed with the ingredients.

“Okay, so we’re using brandy-soaked cherries,” Louis says, pulling out a labeled jar. “The recipe says to soak overnight, but it’s been three months. Is that bad?”

Harry waves him off, poking at the screen of an oven. “Should be fine. Why does this thing have so many buttons?”

Louis chuckles and jumps down off the counter, navigating the simple (or at least simple to him) buttons of the oven so it starts preheating. Harry pouts, but only until Louis bops him on the nose and he breaks into a wide grin.

“Sift together the dry ingredients,” Louis reads. Harry gathers containers labeled _flour_ and _cocoa powder_ and _sugar_. Louis is a little more than hopeless with any step that involves utensils of any kind, so he sits on the counter and directs as Harry dances around the kitchen, cracking eggs and using the mixer and pouring the batter into pans.

“Twenty minutes,” he says as he slides three pans into the oven, bumping the door shut with his hip.

“Then we’re done?” Louis asks brightly. The look Harry gives him is exasperated and fond in equal parts.

“No,” he says, shaking his head and smiling when Louis slumps. “Here, help me make the filling."

“That sounds like a bad idea,” Louis says automatically, but jumps up and worms his way between Harry and the countertop so he can see.

Harry still does most of the mixing and stirring, but now he’s doing it while looking over Louis’ shoulder, his chest warm against Louis’ back. Louis feels his breath quicken at the press of solid body behind him, but he tries to ignore it.

It doesn’t work: the oven buzzes, Harry steps away, and Louis makes a weird sound high in his throat before he can stop it.

Harry shoots him a grin but doesn’t comment, pouring brandy over the cakes and slowly assembling the layers: cake, filling, cherries, cake. Louis takes his seat on the countertop again as he watches Harry’s steady hands’ graceful and sure movements create a masterpiece. He slowly sets the cake back into Louis’ refrigeration unit.

Harry brushes his hands of flour and crumbs when he steps back, checking his work. He turns to Louis with a smile. “All we need is the icing and then we’re done.”

“Let’s do this,” Louis says seriously, and Harry chuckles, grabbing a large mixing bowl for Louis to hold as he throws in ingredients—whipped cream, dry milk, icing sugar. Harry pours in the vanilla and it smells so good Louis can’t help himself; he dips a finger into the mix and sucks it off, closing his eyes and groaning at the sweetness on his tongue.

“Louis,” Harry says, and his voice has a catch in it that makes Louis open his eyes again. Harry’s _right there_ , his big green eyes clouded and dark, his pink lips bitten red.

Louis grins and swipes his finger through the icing again, dotting some sticky sweet mixture on Harry’s lip before sliding his finger into his own mouth once more.

It happens in the space of a second, too quick for Louis to even draw in a gasp; the mixing bowl clatters to the ground when Harry throws himself forward, his hands holding Louis’ cheeks and yanking him into a blazing kiss. Louis makes a surprised noise, the taste of sugar on Harry’s tongue like a shot of adrenaline to his veins, but he throws his arms around Harry’s shoulders and lets himself be swept away. Harry teases and nips with sharp teeth, leaving Louis’ lips puffy and parted for air, a swirl of _yes_ and _please_ and _more_ running through his head.

“Harry,” he moans when Harry releases his lips to catch his breath. He’s dizzy and dazed, thunderstruck in the best way by the sudden turn of events; it feels inevitable that they’ve come crashing into this like lightning against a night sky, quick and sudden but inescapable. Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s hips, leaving no space between them, and Harry tucks his hands under Louis’ thighs to keep him there.

Louis starts scrabbling at Harry’s shirt buttons, needing less between them as soon as possible. Harry nods, tugging on Louis’ bottom lip with his teeth, and trying to help. A voice interrupts.

“Is somebody there?” someone calls. “Nobody is supposed to use the kitchen after hours!”

“Shit,” Harry breathes, jumping backwards. He and Louis stare at each other, wide-eyed, for a long moment. “Grab the icing bowl, I’ll get the cake.”

Louis’ legs almost collapse when he slides to the floor but he keeps it under control, reaching down with shaky hands and picking up the abandoned bowl, which miraculously landed right-side up. Harry grunts when he lifts the refrigeration unit, careful not to jostle the cake inside.

“Go, go,” he insists in a whisper, and Louis races out a side door into the hallway. They collapse into an elevator and slam the button to close the door as Jones and Hackford, the two Academy directors, round the corner and spot them.

“Stop right there!” one of them yells, and Louis grins.

“Nope!” he says, and the doors slide closed.

Louis and Harry exchange a look, then collapse into laughter.

But by the time the elevator doors open again on the living quarters floor they’re kissing again, Harry backing Louis into a corner, Louis on his toes to reach Harry’s lips.

“C’mon,” Harry mumbles against Louis’ lips, picking up the fridge with one hand and tugging Louis’ hand with the other. Harry flicks his wrist when they get to the laurel guarding the door to his living quarters, not bothering to untangle their hands, and the tree twists open quickly like it knows what kind of rush they’re in.

It’s silent and still in the quarters. Harry sets the fridge down on a table, taking the bowl out of Louis’ hands for the last time and placing it on top. When he turns back to Louis, his eyes are darker than Louis’ ever seen them.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now,” he says hoarsely. Louis shivers.

“I want it,” he whispers.

Harry has him against a wall seconds later, caging him in and kissing him desperately. The sugary sweetness of the taste of icing has long faded but Harry’s like his own brand of addictive substance; Louis feels his muscles go loose when he gets another taste of Harry’s mouth like he’s finally gotten a fix. He curls his hand in Harry’s hair to keep him close and Harry rumbles low in his chest, a vibration Louis can feel in his bones.

“I need,” he gasps, pulling away from Harry’s mouth for the smallest second. There’s no end to the sentence, he just _needs_.

Harry wraps his hand around Louis’ forearm and it’s like a brand, heat searing his skin with the most blissful burn. He pulls Louis away from the wall and Louis stumbles after him, a shadow chasing Harry to his bedroom. The blankets are soft under his back when Harry lays him across it but Harry is firm above him, a heavy weight that takes Louis’ breath away and never gives it back.

Harry’s lips against his are a revival, a resuscitation, a spark of light and life in Louis’ blood. Louis has never craved anything like this before, has never felt empty with such an urgency to be filled.

He tries undoing Harry’s buttons again without pulling away from Harry’s mouth, having only gotten a couple open before they were discovered in the kitchen. Harry’s chest trembles against his fingers and his necklaces are cold against Louis’ skin. The edge of Harry’s trousers sparks like static electricity when Louis’ hand brushes it, making his heart jump in anticipation. Louis undoes the last button on Harry’s shirt and the fabric swings loose, opening a new stretch of Harry’s body for Louis to explore with light touches, soft strokes.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes, sitting up and whipping his shirt completely off. Louis’ breath catches.

Dozens of daubs of ink coat Harry’s chest and arms and hips, blurry and smudged in the low light of the room. Louis reaches up and traces two birds on Harry’s chest. Heat pulses in his limbs; Louis wants to chart it all with his tongue, to know how the skin of Harry’s uninked ribs taste compared to his painted shoulders.  

“Harry,” he whispers instead of all that, and Harry nods like he agrees. He slides his hand under Louis’ back and slowly undoes the zipper up the back of his uniform. The leather peels away from Louis’ shoulders and he wrestles himself free, the air cool against his warm skin. Harry moans loudly and drops to bite along Louis’ collarbones, their hips sliding together. Louis flings his head back with a gasp, overwhelmed.

“Off,” Harry begs, pushing the uniform off Louis’ arms. He has to reach back around and unzip it more to get it loose enough to slide over Louis’ hips but he does, and soon the warm leather is slipping down Louis’ body, revealing more and more of his skin.

Harry looks rapturous when he has Louis naked underneath him, like he doesn’t know what to do first. Louis knows, though, and he pulls himself up to be able to reach for Harry’s trouser button and zipper. The clinking metal is loud in the quiet room but Louis doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter, he pushes at Harry’s shoulders until he gets the hint and stands to wriggle out of his tight jeans.

Louis whines when Harry is finally naked, a long stretch of lithe limbs and strong shoulders, soft thighs and broad chest. He’s fully hard, his cock standing out from his body as he rakes his eyes over Louis, sprawled out and wanton in his bed.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Louis chants. “Harry, love, c’mon.”

Harry doesn’t make him wait, falling gracefully back over Louis’ form. He kisses patterns across Louis’ chest, lingering on his nipples until Louis is writhing and swearing, his legs kicking but his wrists pinned above his head in one of Harry’s big hands. Harry sucks a bruise right in the middle of his chest like a stamp of ownership, a _Harry was here._ Louis wants more, he wants that written on every inch of his skin.

“Lou,” Harry murmurs into his hipbone. “Want you so much. Wanted you forever."

Louis’ hips arch off the bed in answer. “Please,” Louis begs. “Please fuck me, Harry, _please_.”

Harry’s breath hitches and he crawls over to a side table, rummaging inside until he finds a little plastic tube. The clear liquid inside shifts slowly, and Louis aches all over.

Harry slicks a single finger, but he hesitates before touching Louis; it’s a bit of a timeless moment, the two of them staring at each other with lust-hazy eyes, red cheeks and wet lips. It’s taken so long to get here, three months of wanting and watching without having, and they finally get to do this.

“Do it,” Louis whispers, tilting his chin. Harry obliges, touching his lubed finger to Louis’s rim, rubbing slowly. Louis arches again, his lower back leaving the bed completely at the lightest feather of a touch. Harry gets bolder and pushes in a little; Louis’ gasp is strangled as it leaves his throat, the pulsing pound of his arousal filling him with sparks.

Harry takes his time working Louis open, each slide of his fingers like a hallelujah chorus in Louis’ head. Louis hides his face in the pillow to muffle his moans, the hitch in his breath echoing every time Harry presses a little deeper, a little harder. He clenches involuntarily when Harry leans down to kiss him again, like he can’t keep his mouth from Louis’ for too long, and he wails when Harry works his other hand between them and wraps it around Louis’ cock.

“Gonna do another,” Harry breathes against Louis neck and he shivers, nodding frantically. Two of Harry's fingers is a stretch, three fills him up, but he breathes through it and lets himself relax, his hips twitching with each pump of Harry’s hand on his cock. Louis has tears in his eyes when he blinks them open, overwhelmed and whimpering with each twist of Harry’s wrist. Harry looks enraptured, his eyes flickering over Louis as he sobs, as he writhes. He crooks his fingers and Louis flies upward, scrabbling at Harry’s shoulders and moaning. Harry keeps him close, his left arm around Louis’ back as he keeps brushing a finger over Louis’ prostate, electric shocks zapping up Louis’ spine.

“‘m ready, ‘m ready,” he mumbles into Harry’s collarbone. Harry lays him back against the sheets and reaches for a little square foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth. He rolls the condom on and slicks his cock, lining up at Louis’ entrance.

Harry reaches down and tangles their fingers together as he pushes in slowly, slowly, slowly.

Louis feels conquered, taken; he feels himself go pliant, his head tilted back as Harry moves further inside of him. Harry is inescapable, his body heavy and wonderful over Louis’.

“Lou,” Harry moans. “So perfect. Perfect for me.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis breathes as Harry slides out a little and thrusts back in, a slow roll of his hips. Harry leans down and kisses him, or tries to: it’s more of a touch of lips to the corner of his mouth than anything else, but Louis will take it. The burn of Harry’s first push has faded, replaced by the thudding of his blood, his cock needing release.  

Louis wraps a hand in Harry’s curls and pulls, and that starts it: Harry’s hips thrust and Louis hooks his feet around his back to keep him there, right where he’s hottest. Harry’s biting bruises onto Louis’ throat and letting himself be directed by Louis’ insistent kicks, his teeth catching Louis’s skin when he grins at Louis’ impatience.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, the words like raindrops against Louis’s body, jolts of sensation falling from above him.

“Already are,” Louis gasps as Harry’s angle changes. “So good, _fuck_ , Haz.”

There’s one more angle change when Harry shifts to bring his face closer to Louis’ and—shit, that’s it, that’s the spot. Louis arches and tries to force himself downward, begging for more.

“There, there, there,” he chants, raking his nails down Harry’s back. “Don’t stop, please, never stop.”

“Can’t,” Harry groans in agreement, and his thrusts get deeper, harder. Louis is making little noises with each jump of Harry’s hips, a soft ah-ah echo of Harry’s deeper grunts. Louis feels hot and shaky, like one more touch from Harry will send him hurtling over the edge.

Harry reaches for Louis’ cock, pumps twice, and Louis wails his release. The heat in his pelvis blazes through his veins, along his spine, and he comes for ages, his cock lying heavily on his stomach. He blinks away the spots and ignores his tingling fingers to see Harry has stopped, his eyes wide and dark as he watches Louis fall apart.

“Keep going,” Louis whispers. “Want you to finish inside me. Make me yours.”

Harry rumbles that sound deep in his throat again, the sound thundering up Louis’ trembling limbs and tingly spine. He kisses blue-purple bruises into the hollow of Louis’ throat as he picks up his pace again; it’s too much on Louis’ sensitive nerves, but it’s also the best feeling he’s ever had so he doesn’t squirm away.

Harry has raised himself up on one elbow, his hips powering forward in erratic thrusts. Louis lifts himself up, just a little, and bites at Harry’s collarbone.

Harry comes, shivering violently as he does, pulsing inside Louis like a heartbeat.

“Brilliant,” is all he says after he’s collapsed on Louis’ chest, his voice raspy and rough. Louis hums, his limbs tired and his eyes heavy but his body never more content than it is now.

Eventually, Harry shakes the sleep from his limbs and fetches a wet cloth, wiping himself and Louis clean before tossing it off to the side. When Louis starts shivering under the sheets, Harry digs out one of his own t-shirts and tosses it to him; the dark material falls to the top of Louis’ thighs, and Louis grins to himself as he plays with the lightweight material, something they don’t wear back on Blue so he never gets to experience.

They fall asleep twined together, the Nebula outside Harry’s window the only audience to their night.

☾

Harry wakes pressed to warm skin and soft sheets, someone breathing lightly on the back of his neck.

 _Louis_.

It’s early, at least an hour before they’ll need to get up. They still have to finish the icing for the cake, and Louis’ is the first lesson of the day so they’ll have to go early to set up.

But that can wait, because right now Harry has a beautiful boy in his bed and a warm, giddy feeling in his chest. He turns slowly in Louis’ arms, rolling over to see Louis’ face soft in sleep, his mouth parted a little as he breathes deeply.

They have four days left together. Harry knows Louis is unhappy with his situation back on Blue but it’s still his home and it's still where he’ll go when he leaves the Academy, just like how Harry will go back to Nelahna. They’ll be literal worlds away from each other and Harry honestly doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to watch Louis walk away from him, especially now that he’s gotten a taste of his skin, now that he knows just how he shifts in his sleep.

Like Louis can hear him, his eyelashes flutter open and his sleepy eyes catch the first morning light. They take a moment to focus, but when they do and they see Harry there, smiling at him from across the pillow, he breaks into a massive smile.

“Morning,” he says, voice soft and throaty.

Harry swallows. “Morning. Good sleep?”

“Never better.” Louis slowly stretches, yawning and pointing his toes. “Time is it?”

Harry sits up to look over at the alarm clock Louis had fixed for him, the sheets falling to pool around his waist. “Almost seven.”

Louis hums, rolling back onto his side to face Harry. He reaches up with a single finger and traces the laurel leaves on Harry’s V lines, and Harry shivers at the light touch. “These were a surprise,” Louis rasps.

Harry feels himself flush at Louis’ blatant once-over, taking in the rose and the shaking hands and the birdcage all inked into Harry’s skin. “My people are big on not forgetting the past,” he explains quietly, letting Louis’ fingers explore. “So we paint memories onto our skin, and since the ink we use is from plants we can seal it in so it stays forever.”

Louis lingers on the butterfly below Harry’s ribs. “You have a lot of things you want to remember.”

“I’ve had a good life,” Harry agrees.

“Will you get more?” Louis asks lightly, though his hand twitches a little like he’s trying to play it cool and failing. “When you get home, I mean.”

Harry’s stomach clenches when he thinks of home. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Got a lot of new things I want to keep with me.”

Louis reaches up and tangles his hand in Harry’s hair, and Harry goes willingly when he pulls. Their lips are soft and sweet, the heat from last night muted but still simmering under their skin. Louis tugs on Harry’s bottom lip and then pulls back, his smile a little sad.

“Almost waited too long for this, didn’t we?”

Harry feels the answering bleakness in his own smile. “Almost, yeah. Four days left.”

“Four days,” Louis echoes. He pushes at Harry’s shoulder until he lays back down, then pillows his head on Harry’s chest. “What do we do? I can’t- I can’t just go back to how it was.”

“I know,” Harry soothes, running his hand up Louis’ warm back. “Me neither. I can’t pretend this didn’t happen.”

“There’s so much between us,” Louis whispers. “A whole war and a couple of governments. My friends. Your friends. Stan doesn’t even know, and I tell him everything.”

Harry grins ruefully. “I think Stan knows, babe. We haven’t exactly been subtle. And Jeff does, and Cara and Glenne. I bet Calvin and Oli do, too, they just don’t want to admit it.”

“Still a lot in the way.”

“Got a lot working for us too, though,” Harry murmurs. “Zayn and Liam and Niall. Perrie and the girls. Your mum. My mum. I think Lottie’d take down your government herself if they tried to keep us apart.”

Louis snorts, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We have a whole list of friends that’ll have to watch right along with us as we get stuffed back into separate shuttles and sent home on Friday.”

“There’s got to be something,” Harry insists. “I mean, clearly people from Blue and Green don’t _have_ to hate each other.”

“Oh, did I not tell you?” Louis grins. “Last night was totally hate sex. I hate you lots.”

Harry scoffs. “You think I’m the most amazing thing in the galaxy.”

Louis leans up, leaving a long kiss on Harry’s lips. “You know what? You're absolutely right.” He lays back down, grinning against Harry’s ribs. “So we just need to make Simon and someone really powerful on your end of things fall in love and have really fantastic sex.”

Harry grimaces, trying not to imagine Jeff’s dad having sex at all because, no. Then he realizes. “Fall in love?”

Louis goes still. “What?”

“You said fall in love,” Harry points out, a smile spreading uncontrollably across his face.

“Did I? Weird,” Louis says. “Hey, not a change of subject or anything, but don’t we have a cake to finish cooking, or something?”

“You don’t cook cakes, Louis,” Harry grins, poking Louis’ side. “You bake them. And I think we’ve got plenty of time. Let’s go back to what we were talking about before.”

Louis shifts, finding Harry’s hand and squeezing it. “The thing is,” he says, clearly planning on ignoring his own earlier comment, “both planets could benefit from a trade agreement if they would just get over themselves. I mean, Syco might not make as much money selling illegal weapons to the government as it does now, but the economy would still survive. Would probably grow, actually, since there would be a whole new market to sell to.”

“My planet could have real technology,” Harry says wistfully. “Medicine, too.”

“You know,” Louis says, sitting up slowly and looking deep in thought. Harry’s t-shirt is too big for his shoulders, slipping sideways to reveal a collarbone bruised from Harry’s mouth, and Harry has to concentrate hard to drag his eyes away from the sight. He's never seen Louis in anything but his uniforms, and while the tight synthetic leather he wears everyday isn't hard on the eyes by any stretch of the imagination, Harry likes how Louis looks in his too-big clothes. “I think I have an idea. A way to make them see. I figured something out the other day, and I think we can use it.”

“Oh my nebula,” Harry says, remembering his own little discovery, the clear water sample still in its dish on the desk just outside Harry’s bedroom door. He sits up as well. “Me too, but you go first.”

Louis tells Harry the plan; Harry gets so excited he ends up pouncing on Louis and rolling them over, kissing his way down his chest and taking him down in one long, swift swallow. He has Louis coming in under two minutes, his throat working as he gasps and whimpers, leaving long scratches down Harry’s back like souvenirs.

Louis reciprocates. Twice.

They’re only a little late for Blue’s class, but no one comments on Louis wearing the same uniform two days in a row or the line of bruises up his neck when he threatens to withhold their slices of cake.

☆

The last lessons pass quickly when everyone realizes just how little time left they have together; each group adopts a more Louis-like method of teaching, informal discussion over things they didn’t have time to cover but that they wanted to share. There are no breaks spent napping or where anyone goes off by themselves anymore. They’re too close to the end, too close to leaving each other for good. Nobody is handling it very well—Perrie’s got a shaky lower lip through Pink’s whole last lesson, and there isn’t a moment when Niall _isn’t_ sitting in someone’s lap, even through dinner. They’ve all bonded through the last twelve weeks, and it’s hard to consider letting go.

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand under the table every time someone brings up the upcoming separation. Their plan is set, the boys have been told, so they just don’t talk about it. It’s too hard to consider the end here, right at the beginning. 

Wednesday night fades into Thursday morning and it’s not just the five boys spending all night in the common room together, it’s almost everyone. They joke and laugh and sing and fall asleep in little huddles all over the room, draped across each other and still smiling even in slumber.  

Thursday is an interesting day, thanks to the excitement over the farewell ball that night. The girls spend the morning flitting from one planet’s living quarters to the next, comparing outfits and taking over the common room as hair and makeup central. Zayn is roped in as a test model, changing into each of the girls with different hairstyles so they can see how each looks without going through the hassle of actually trying to style their hair multiple ways. Liam and Niall nap on the common room sofas since there’s nothing for the boys to do really except waste time until they have to get dressed later.

At the same time that Zayn is face-changing into Jade with an updo to see if she likes it, Harry and Louis are awake across the Academy, christening Louis’ bed with Harry’s hand clamped over Louis’ mouth so Calvin won’t hear through the walls. Louis bites down on Harry’s hand in retaliation but it definitely does help to stifle the shout that erupts from Louis when he comes, Harry’s teeth leaving ridged lines in Louis’ shoulder as he follows him into orgasm. They lie there, giggling and shushing each other for giggling, until the sweat cools and the tingles have left their fingers.

There’s a knock at the front door, and they can hear Niall’s voice all the way in Louis’ room. “Oi, lads! Breakfast time!”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head, slipping out from under Louis’ dirty sheets and stretching, not bothered at all with his own nudity. Louis chucks a pillow at his groin because if he doesn’t cover that thing up soon, Louis won’t be responsible for his actions and he’s not sure he could survive another round.  

They dress quickly, joining Niall and Liam and Zayn (whose hair still has glitter spray in it from being the test model, but no one has told him yet) for a quick breakfast before making their way to the common room to hang out with the girls. Harry is pulled into a conversation with Eleanor as soon as they walk in, so Louis follows the other boys to the biggest couches in the middle of the room.

The girls seem to be in quite a tizzy over yet another meal with the same people they've seen for months. They've even got special outfits, elegant dresses hung on hooks along the walls in every color. Louis freezes when, among all the brightly colored gowns, he spots someone’s tuxedo.

Wait. Is this, like, a _fancy_ thing?

“Erm, Ni?” Louis asks as they settle into sofas and watch the girls spin around the room, trading lipstick and nail polish when needed. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“A suit?” Niall answers, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Why, what’re you wearing?”

“Um,” Louis says again, then gestures down at his usual uniform. “This?”

Niall laughs, but stops quickly enough when Louis doesn't join in. “Wait, are you serious? No, Lou, you can't wear the same uniform you always do! I won't let you.”

“I don't really have a choice,” Louis says, though his heart is fluttering in a panic. Why did no one warn him he'd need a suit? Did Stan know? If Stan shows up in a suit, Louis is gonna kick him in the shin. “Niall, what am I supposed to do? I was going to…”

Niall’s eyebrow raises to his hairline. “Going to?”

Louis fidgets. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Niall smirks a little but doesn't press any further, clapping Louis on the shoulder. “Don't worry, I got this.”

Louis is about to ask what it is exactly that Niall's got, but then thinks better of it. It only takes a few minutes for it to play out, anyway.

“Harry,” Leigh-Anne calls over the general noise of the room. Harry, who had squeezed onto the sofa next to Louis when Eleanor was done with him, looks up, already smiling. “I was thinking of braiding flowers in my hair for tonight, what do you think?”

“I think it'd be gorgeous,” Harry says, grinning. “Want to try it out?”

“Sure, yeah! Only,” she stops, biting her lip, “could we go back to my quarters? I left my dress there and I want to make sure it matches.”

“I'll come with!” Sophia calls.

“Me too!” says Eleanor. She shoots a wink at Louis when they pass, whispering, “We’ll stall him as long as you need.”

Niall throws the lock on the common room door when they're gone, then everyone turns to Louis with identically terrifying grins.

“Jade and I can make you an outfit,” Perrie says. Louis starts to thank her but she holds up a hand to stop him, her eyes gleaming. “But first you have to tell us what you're planning.”

“What?” Louis asks immediately, though the twitch of his hands probably gives him away. If not that, then the blush on his cheeks definitely will. “Nothing. What do you- why-? It's nothing. I’m fine.”

Perrie is openly grinning now. “Right,” she says lightly. “Enjoy attending the ball in your same old boring uniform, then.”

“No!” Louis says, then covers his eyes for a second. “It's personal?” he tries halfheartedly. 

Zayn snorts. "Accept it, Lou. There are no boundaries, here. We are all involved." 

"Ugh," Louis groans. "I might, possibly, may be telling Harry that I love him tonight." 

“Holy nebula,” Jade whispers. It's quiet for a second and immediately Louis’ panic starts to rise again (is it that bad of an idea? Do they all think he's an idiot? Why are they all _staring?_ ), then—

“Weyhey!” Niall cheers, and the rest of the group joins in. Jade and Perrie bounce in a circle around him, chanting _we knew it we knew it_ , and Liam claps Louis on the back, grinning so brightly his eyes are just crinkles.

“So happy for you, mate,” he says.

“And it's about time,” Jesy adds.

“Seems like a good enough reason for us to dress you up all pretty,” Jade adds nonchalantly.

But, as it turns out, the Cinderella moment may not happen after all. The Pink girls have their specialties they can manipulate, sure: they can dismantle and remake and stretch and duplicate their materials, but they can't create them out of thin air. Louis doesn’t have any cotton or silk clothing, doesn’t have any outfits at all except the uniforms he brought with him, and so they’re already stuck at step one.

“You don’t have anything made of cotton we can use?” Jade asks, worrying at her lip. “Nothing at all?”

“Not even a towel, an old shirt? Nothing?” Perrie adds.

Louis gets an idea.

Ten minutes later he’s back in the common room, holding up Harry’s worn t-shirt he still hasn’t given back. He grins. “Will this work?”

Jade examines it and grins back. “Yes it will.”

“Why is it so big?” Niall asks, blissfully unaware. Zayn chuckles and nudges him with his elbow; it takes Niall a second, but then he gets it and his face contorts in disgust. “You swapped clothes after- ugh, gross, Lou!”

Louis just smirks as he watches Jade hang the shirt up on a hanger, tugging on the hems and stretching the sleeves, looking contemplative. She raises a hand, snaps her fingers, and the shirt disintegrates into a pile of thread; she snaps again and the thread winds itself into a perfect circle for Jade to hold. She fiddles with the end of it for a moment, then, in front of their very eyes, starts weaving the thread together with just a flick of her hand.

“Jade!” Perrie says when she’s got one full trouser leg done. “I’ve an idea.”

They whisper together for a moment, then call Jesy in for her opinion. By the look in Jesy’s widened eyes, they’ve struck gold.

 ****Perrie grins and hops across the room to her bag, pulling out a multicolored silk scarf that she also unravels with the snap of her fingers. “Don’t watch,” she says, shooing Louis away. “We want it to be a surprise.”

Louis frowns but follows the boys out of the common room to the Yellow quarters so the other three can all get dressed. Liam finishes first and comes to sit next to Louis on a sofa while Niall tries to sort out his tie and Zayn messes with his hair. “How’re you doing, Tommo?”

“Yeah, good,” Louis answers, pulling at his sleeve. “Actually, um. Quite a bit nervous, y’know.”

“Don’t be,” Niall calls, because of course he’s listening. “You got nothing to worry about.”

“Of course I do!” Louis says, his voice going a little shrill. “Summer romance is all well and good when you’re lightyears from home, but it’s different trying to make it work in the real galaxy. Especially if tomorrow is our last day together and that one day counts as a quarter of our relationship so far.”

“You’ll be fine,” Liam says confidently. “Come on, Louis. You can’t seriously tell me that a little thing like distance is going to stand between you two. I don't believe it.”

“This isn’t some regular dumb long distance relationship, Li,” Louis groans. “This is… it’s _everything_. And I can’t go back to the way it was before.”

“Then don’t,” Zayn says easily. “C’mon, Lou, you’re looking for reasons to get worked up. Chill out, take a breath, and calm down. Like Harry would ever let you go now that he’s found you, anyway.”

Louis does what he says, taking a deep, lung-aching breath and trying to relax.

It works: the tension bleeds out when Niall and Liam start teasing Zayn about the single strand of hair that’s fallen out of his otherwise artful quiff. They smoke from a stash of hand-rolled cigarettes Zayn has stowed under his bed and they drink wine and they waste time, three boys sitting primly and trying not to wrinkle their suits and Louis sprawling out like usual. Then Louis’ comm unit beeps with a message from Perrie.

 **_From: Perrie Edwards_ **  
_All done! Come try it on. xx_

The four boys hustle back to the common room to find Jesy, Jade, and Perrie waiting for them, grinning.

“Ready to bow in gratitude?” Perrie teases.

“Yes,” Louis answers seriously.

They reveal his new suit, and Louis really does have to take a moment and collapse weakly onto the nearest chair.

It’s the most gorgeous piece of clothing Louis has ever seen, and he was there the week Zayn wore nothing but hand-beaded sherwanis that looked like they belonged in museums. The black thread that had made up Harry’s old t-shirt has been woven into a sharp, crisp suit, but it’s not just plain black: Perrie’s unspooled silk scarf was threaded in as well, adding bursts of color that catch the light, white and silvery blue and rosy-orange. There are tiny bits of metal sewn in as well, shining like, well.

Like stars.

The girls have made the Nebula into a suit and Louis gets to wear it.

“I…” he says, his voice catching. “I don’t even know what to say.” He smothers each of the girls in a hug. “Thank you so much,” he says weakly into Perrie’s shoulder. She pats his back and points him toward the hastily-constructed makeshift dressing room in the corner.

“You’re welcome, doll. Now go try it on.”

Slipping out of the uniform, that same leather shell he’s been wearing since day one here at the Academy, and sliding into a perfectly crafted suit that fits him like a glove… it’s a powerful experience. It’s like he’s stripping away the old Louis Tomlinson, the one that was scared, the one that hated without reason, the one that saw a boy from Green and turned away instead of walking closer like he should have. He slides the jacket on and it’s like resurfacing after spending his life underwater; he’s a new man when he straightens the sleeves, buttons the jacket. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t hide himself away to keep from causing trouble, and the kind who doesn’t do things just because he’s told. He’s bright and new and kind and conscientious and he has the most amazing friends in the galaxy. He’s the kind of person who deserves to know Harry Styles, maybe even love him. Maybe even be loved by him in return.

He steps out from behind the curtain and the group falls silent, but this time Louis isn’t panicking over what he’s done wrong.

“Hot damn, Tommo,” Niall finally says. “Harry’s not gonna know what hit him.”

☾

Harry is posted next to the dessert table at the farewell ball, eyes and ears peeled for any hint of a Louis Tomlinson in the vicinity, but his search has been unsuccessful so far.

He eats another chocolate covered strawberry and frowns, impatient.

The Academy’s farewell ball is held in the largest of the ballrooms, a spacious, ornate chamber with chandeliers and old artwork on the walls and a wide, glittering staircase leading down to the polished dance floor. It’s not just the Academy representatives attending, either; dignitaries and ambassadors from across the Alliance are here to meet the newest Academy class and celebrate another year of peace. Still, it’s a more casual mood than Harry was expecting because even though everyone in attendance is dressed to the nines, laughter is flowing as freely as the champagne.

That may have something to do with Niall, who has taken it upon himself to act as the unofficial master of ceremonies and grandly announce each new person’s arrival to the ball. It’s every fairytale cliché, Niall’s booming, Orancine accent-tinged voice ringing out and capturing everyone’s attention so each new person gets their moment in the spotlight. Even people who had already been at the ball when he’d started had ran back up to have their big entrance; some of the dignitaries even joined in, giggling like children and waving to the crowd as Niall mangles their titles and names.

“Jesy Nelson,” Niall calls mightily now, “and Jade Thirlwall!”

Jesy and Jade appear at the top of the staircase, both kissing Niall’s cheek before descending gracefully to the floor. Jade is [in blue](http://www.yournextjeans.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/Jade-Thirlwall-in-Jovonna-London-2.jpg), a tiny pixie in a simple, elegant suit, and Jesy is voluptuous and stunning in a gorgeous [red gown](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/02/25/2617482C00000578-2969116-Lady_in_red_Jesy_Nelson_was_channeling_Who_Famed_Roger_Rabbit_pi-a-33_1424894511589.jpg). Leigh-Anne waves them over to where she’d been standing next to Harry, keeping him company until the rest of their friends arrive. She’s gorgeous tonight as well, a [drapey white dress](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ar1u-waHmw/USYtODWQWtI/AAAAAAAAAIk/L8uqQ3iFUbY/s1600/lmus_281229.jpg) popping against her dark skin, Harry’s moonflowers braided into her hair.

That process, when Leigh and Eleanor and Sophia had dragged Harry from the common room to help Leigh weave flowers into her hair, had taken all of thirty minutes, including the few it took for him to grow several different types of white flowers that could match her dress so she could choose her favorite. When he was done and Leigh, El, and Soph had all voiced their approval of Harry’s braiding skills, Harry had started backing his way out of Leigh’s room so he could get back to the common room and Louis. He wasn’t being clingy, not really; it just gets a little harder to be away from Louis as their remaining time together starts dwindling, especially now that their time left can be counted in hours instead of days.

“‘m just gonna,” he’d said awkwardly, pointing over his shoulder at the door as Leigh-Anne played with her hair and Eleanor and Sophia gave suggestions.

“No!” Eleanor had shouted, freezing Harry in his tracks. Her gaze had flicked between Harry and the other two girls who looked just as shocked as him, and then she’d promptly burst into loud, shaking tears. “I’m f-fine,” she’d sobbed, though she’d clung to Harry’s shirt with an iron grip. “J-just, um.”

“Not wanting to go home yet, huh?” Sophia had cooed sympathetically.

“Yeah, th-that’s it,” El had cried.

And then, well, Harry couldn’t go anywhere. Eleanor’s tears dried quickly enough, but then Sophia asked for his help zipping her into her dress, and then Leigh needed his opinion on her eyeshadow. There were a few quiet minutes where Harry tried to slip out again, but then Eleanor saw and started crying again and so Harry spent the afternoon there in the Pink quarters instead of with the boys, not able to leave until almost half an hour before the ball when the girls finally let him go to change into his suit (and by _let him go_ , that means they walked to Harry’s room with him and waited for him to change into [his suit](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/12/15/2408C5A300000578-0-image-m-65_1418645150489.jpg) so they could all walk to the ballroom together).

So Harry hasn’t seen Louis in _hours_ , and Niall keeps announcing everyone else _but_ Louis and it’s driving Harry mad.

And, okay. It’s not Niall’s fault. Harry’s fingers are just itching to touch Louis again and he can’t think of one good reason for why Louis would choose tonight of all nights to be fashionably late.

“Zayn Malik!” Niall announces. Zayn appears slowly, a classic cool image in [all black](http://static.tumblr.com/ee883983b36547b59fc3a30b8e1694fc/sfr9rzh/N7Znfk2ks/tumblr_static_b4pws6xecjwoco848osg4g0gs.jpg), a single strand of hair falling out of his quiff. He grins when he sees Niall, walking smoothly over and dipping him into a long, lingering kiss that has the rest of the ballroom whooping. Zayn rights them and adjusts [Niall’s tie](https://41.media.tumblr.com/9ea711d41bc18cad268ed68c048c9c88/tumblr_nw0df5C26S1ud5ykgo1_500.jpg), lip curled up in a cocky smirk as he makes his way down to Harry and the girls. Niall is dazed and red-cheeked when he calls out, “Liam Payne!”

[Liam’s](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g4nzUg98n54/VBytRUcc_wI/AAAAAAAAQoU/cl765Y0qzqM/s1600/10703880_771404869580976_1186502493629115866_n.jpg) combed his hair back and trimmed his usually-scruffy facial hair, his suit crisp and sharp with not a bit of fur in sight. He claps Harry on the shoulder when he joins the group, reaching past him for a strawberry as their circle of friends expands, everyone chattering happily.

“Almost all here now, aren’t we?” Liam says cheerfully. “Then we can get this party started.”

Harry _burns_ to ask where Louis is, but he’s stronger than that. He can resist.

“Where’s Louis?” he asks a minute later.

Zayn smirks ominously. “He’ll get here,” he says.

“Perrie Edwards!” Niall announces. Perrie glides down the stairs, a tan and black [dress](http://cdn.yournextshoes.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/perrie-edwards-one-direction-this-is-us-premiere-sandals.jpg) floating around her as she joins them.

“Hello all!” she says, grabbing a flute of champagne. “Good night, eh?”

Harry swipes a glass of water from a passing waiter, sipping agitatedly. He loves everyone standing around him, but he wants Louis and he’s getting a little twitchy with all the pointed looks his direction. He feels like the butt of a joke that he hasn’t even heard yet so he can’t defend himself.

Liam makes a sudden movement; Harry looks up from staring into his glass to see him shoot a thumbs up at Niall, who is grinning and nods back. Liam turns to Harry, clapping him on the shoulder again.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Here he comes,” Zayn says softly.

“Louis Tomlinson!” Niall announces.

The galaxy stops spinning.

Harry drops his glass of water; out of the corner of his eye, he sees Leigh reach her hand out, pointing her finger and manipulating the water to flip the glass upside down so it doesn’t shatter on the floor. He’ll have to thank her later. Right now, he can’t even form words.

Louis is standing at the top of the stairs next to Niall. His hair is swirled back in a high quiff, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and defined chin, his arched eyebrows. He rubs his hands together and his eyes catch Harry’s, smirking a little like he knows how good he looks. Harry’s breath snags in his throat.

Every time Louis moves, his suit catches the light and he glimmers. His regular uniforms are usually incredibly flattering, but this is different; this isn’t Louis making something average look good, this is Louis wearing something that was made for him, something that deserves to be worn by him.

It’s a suit of stars and it fits him like he’s been wrapped in a tailor-made celestial coat. He’s a cosmic dream, a constellation of blue eyes and delicate hands and sharp words and kind actions.

He’s perfect.

The crowd parts for Harry as he approaches the bottom of the stairs, mouth agape as he waits for Louis to reach him. Somewhere in the background music has started playing, quiet strings reverberating slow melodies through the room.

Louis stops on the bottom step so he’s eye level with Harry and grins. “Hello,” he says simply.

“I think you stole my lungs,” Harry breathes.

Louis’ grin grows wider. He looks over Harry’s shoulder, where Harry is sure the whole room is still watching them; it doesn’t seem to faze Louis as he holds out his hand. “Care to dance?”

Louis fits into Harry’s arms like a missing puzzle piece and Harry knew that the moment they fell into bed together, but somehow it’s even more apparent as they dance in the middle of a quiet ballroom, all the eyes of their friends and strangers alike watching them move. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and Harry lays a hand over the small of Louis’ back and they sway, their eyes only for each other.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Louis says. He’s different, tonight; maybe it’s the suit, maybe it’s their impending goodbyes, maybe it’s just Louis finally allowing himself to be comfortable around Harry. His eyes are bright like they only ever are when they’re alone and his voice is calm and warm, collected. Harry’s heart is pounding in his chest and it feels a lot like happiness.

“Okay,” Harry says immediately. “Whatever it is, I agree.”

Louis grins. “Want to hear my idea first, maybe?”

Harry shrugs, his lips twitching into a smile. “If you’d like.”

“I know our plan is set for tomorrow,” he says, and Harry’s smile dims a little. It’s a good plan, and he thinks it’ll help both of their planets a lot, but it still reminds him that the end is approaching and that’s not something he ever wants to think about. “And I know we’ve discussed all the details, but I wanted to suggest a change.”

Harry nods for him to go on. Other couples are joining them out on the dance floor now, Zayn pulling Niall by the hand to lead the way, but he pays them no mind.

“When the presentation is done tomorrow, no matter what the outcome is,” Louis says, then takes a deep breath, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes, “I want to go home with you. To Nelahna.”

Whatever gains Harry had made in getting his lungs to work after seeing Louis in his suit, they’re quickly dismantled. He feels dizzy, all of a sudden. “What?” he gasps.

“I can’t go back to Blue,” Louis says quietly. “Knowing what I know now, being able to step back and see what kind of manipulation and terror I went through, the things I was made to do, I can’t go back and pretend I don’t know how awful it is. But it’s more than that.” He smiles shakily up at Harry, his hands trembling where they rest against Harry’s back. “I can’t leave here with no guarantee of seeing you again. I think we're strong enough to make it work from separate planets, but I don’t want to.”

“Louis,” Harry breathes, blinking back tears.

“I love you, Harry Styles,” Louis says clearly. “And until the day the stars burn out, I’ll never let you go.”

Harry doesn’t know if Calvin knows that he and Louis are together, and he doesn’t care if Jeff still thinks it’s a bad idea. He doesn’t care that they’re in a room full of people watching them, friends and not-quite-friends and government officials and more.

It doesn’t matter. Harry swoops down and kisses Louis fiercely, fervidly. He cups Louis’ face in his hands and presses their lips together again and again and again, his veins overflowing with stardust and bliss.

“I love you too,” he murmurs against Louis’ mouth. “So much. So, so much.” They’ve stopped their slow sway to the music, Harry resting his forehead against Louis’. He breathes out and the stress, the sadness from the last week, all of that melancholy slips from his limbs; he breathes in and is hit with the sweet smell of Louis’ skin and warm silk, firelight and the memory of sleep-mussed sheets. Everything is perfect, here in this moment. Everything is eternal.

When Harry opens his eyes again, it’s to find Louis watching him back. The blue of his eyes seems bluer, the cut of his smile sharper, brighter. He falls into an easy grin, nudging Harry back into a gentle spin to the quiet background music.

“You look amazing,” Harry says after a few moments spent smiling at each other, plucking at Louis’ jacket. Louis grins like starlight.

“Like it? It’s custom made,” he says.

“It’s so fitting.”

“And why’s that?”

Harry laughs quietly, whirling the two of them across the dance floor and out to the balcony, where only a thin layer of glass separates them and the wide expanse of space. “You’ve been asking me why I’ve called you _usdi noqsi_ all this time.” He smiles down at Louis. “It's Yvgreen for little star.”

Louis cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s a short joke or if I should be flattered."

“Flattered, I hope,” Harry laughs. He takes Louis’ hand, tangling their fingers together. “The first time I saw you at the welcome dinner, when you were sitting across from me at the table and I couldn’t stop staring, you took my breath away. Like actually took it away—I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t need to as long as I could look at you. That’s only happened to me one other time.”

Louis’ eyes sparkle. “And when was that?”

“When I first saw the stars up close,” Harry answers softly. “From our shuttle, on the way here to the Academy.”

Louis tucks himself close to Harry, quiet for a moment. “So I’m your star?”

“You’re brighter than all the stars, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry says. “And it would be my privilege to watch you burn forever.”

☆

Louis’ back hits the wall and he gasps, the air leaving his lungs in a _whoosh_.

They hadn't made it long at the ball; between the way Harry looked at Louis in his suit like he wanted to tear him out of it and the way Louis’ heart felt turned inside out after Harry told him the meaning of his nickname, it didn't take long for him to drag Harry back to Green’s empty living quarters.

Harry’s lips are all-encompassing, and Louis loses himself in the pull. He scrabbles his hands across Harry's back, his thighs already aching where they're wrapped around Harry's hips but he couldn't care less. Harry's a hard wall of heat in front of him, keeping him pressed to the wall with no effort. He doesn't let Louis back down to the floor until Louis starts trying to strip himself out of his jacket and almost rips it.

“Don't you ruin that suit,” Harry growls against Louis’ throat as he lowers him back to the ground. “I'm gonna marry you in that suit.”

Louis’ breath stops in his throat and he coughs, his hands stilling on his jacket buttons. Harry doesn't even seem to have noticed, too busy pulling his own jacket and vest off and tossing them across the room.

 _We're eternal_ , Harry had said in Louis' ear as they'd spun across the ballroom floor.

 _Holy shit_ , Louis thinks.

Louis carefully lays his suit off to the side where it won't get squished or stained and pounces, knocking Harry back onto the bed and landing straddled over his hips.

“Gonna marry me?” he asks breathlessly. “Gonna make me yours forever?”

Harry arches up and Louis grinds down. “Yes,” he hisses. “Mine, always mine, and I'm yours. Never letting you go now, Lou, _fuck_.”

Louis moans when Harry flips them, twisting Louis around so he's arse-up. He shivers when Harry stops just to look, his breathing heavy as he takes in the sight of Louis underneath him.  

“Harry, please,” Louis whines against the sheets. He feels hot and wanton, a twisting fire of need in his stomach. “Get the lube, please. Wait, oh my- _fuck_ -"

Harry's big hands spread Louis’ cheeks as he licks again, the swipe of his tongue unexpectedly pouring lava into Louis veins. Louis writhes, not sure if he wants to thrust his hips backward or pulls away from the intense sensation, but Harry doesn't let him choose; he wraps an arm around Louis’ hips to keep him still and kisses his rim again and again.

Louis falls apart, his cries echoing as Harry licks at his hole until he's clenching and shaky, his muscles trembling. His hands twist the sheets, his fingers aching and white-knuckled. Harry pushes his tongue in a little and Louis howls, his back arching and his toes curling.

“Taste so good, love,” Harry moans against Louis’ skin, pointing his tongue and thrusting again and again. Louis is aching, desperate; he’ll have bruises on his hips tomorrow from how tightly Harry’s gripping him to keep him still. Louis reaches back to curl his hands in Harry’s hair and pull him closer and Harry shivers, his hands clenching and his teeth scraping Louis’ rim.

“Harry,” Louis whimpers, “ _Harry_.”

There’s a click of a lid somewhere and Harry’s finger joins his mouth, sliding deep inside Louis as he licks around it. He works Louis open smoothly and quickly, no time wasted on keeping things slow as he adds a second finger, then a third.

Louis is boneless, breathless, weightless; he is nothing more than stardust in Harry's hands, a cloud of arousal and heady love in the shape of a boy.

Harry flips him over, his chest splotchy red under his tattoos and his hair sweaty, holding the base of his cock as he lines up at Louis’ entrance. “Ready, Lou?”

Louis gathers a little control of his limbs and surges up, knocking Harry back once again and settling over him easily. Harry gasps as Louis reaches behind himself and works himself down onto Harry’s cock without preamble.

“Fuck, fuck,” he breathes. “Babe, Louis, _shit_.”

Louis slides and grits his teeth against the stretch until he's all the way down, his thighs framing Harry's hips. He breathes deep and lays his hands over the birds on Harry's chest, shifting to get used to the sting; when the pain fades behind the pounding heat of his arousal, Louis rolls his hips once.

The result is instantaneous: Harry's eyes roll back and his hips buck off the bed and Louis likes this, being in control with just a squeeze of his muscles, a clench here and there sending Harry reeling. He sets a smooth rhythm, lifting himself up using the aching muscles of his thighs and then lowering back down, chasing the wave that's beginning to crest.

Harry puts his hands on Louis’ waist to help with the motion and something about it shifts Louis a little to the left—he throws his head back, crying out as Harry pounds his prostate with each fall of Louis hips.

“Close,” he warns, panting. “So close, Hazza.”

Harry plants his feet on the bed and rocks up once, twice, and Louis is gone, moaning and shuddering and coming all over the butterfly inked onto Harry's chest.

Harry flips them and thrusts a couple of times before following Louis over the edge, his hands spasming and he rides out his aftershocks before collapsing down onto Louis.

They breathe each other's air for a moment, Harry still slumped over Louis, and Harry's face breaks into a brilliant smile.

“I love you so much, Louis,” he whispers. After the shouts and moans of the last half hour or so, his voice is quiet against the sleepy silence of the living quarters.

Louis kisses him softly. “I love you too. More than anything.”

“I was really dreading tomorrow,” Harry murmurs guiltily, like it was some sort of secret. Like Louis didn’t feel the exact same way. “But now that I know it's not our end, it's just the end of our beginning… I'm so happy.”

“I can't wait to save the galaxy with you,” Louis says in answer. It takes them a long time to fall asleep, but it's the best night of rest either of them have ever had.

☾

They aren't in the usual classroom for their last day at the Academy. Since the final presentations are for the ambassadors from each planet that had sponsored the Academy delegates, they're moved to another, much larger room to accommodate the extra people.

It's an auditorium-style room, huge and echoing, and Harry shivers when he steps inside. It feels like a gauntlet, where hopeful ideas go to die. He hopes it’s a false feeling.

Harry doesn't get to sit by Louis, or even by Zayn or Liam or Niall; they all have to sit in their planet groups like they did way back in the beginning before they knew each other, each group defined by its distinctive colors and outfits. Harry is between Jeff and his dad in the Green seats, but their group is relaxed and comfortable compared to everyone else; Irving has that effect on people, a sense of control that makes the people on his side happy to sit back and let him lead. Louis, however, seems to be dealing with the opposite: he’s back in his usual black uniform, his hands shaking as he fiddles with his sleeve. Simon is on his left, Calvin on his right, and his shoulders are so tense that it’s making Harry’s back ache in sympathy.

They probably won’t be able to talk to each other again until after all this is over—as far as Harry is aware, Simon and Irving both think they’re still mortal enemies. Louis had stretched up on his toes and pressed a long, lingering kiss to Harry’s lips before they’d snuck him out of Harry’s bedroom this morning.

“This will have to last us until we’re on the way home,” he’d whispered, grinning at the happiness on Harry’s face before he’d touched the laurel tree guarding the door and crept silently out into the hallway, needing to make it back to the Blue quarters before Calvin and Oli noticed that he’d never come back.

Harry touches his fingers to his lips and watches Louis twitch nervously in his seat a few rows in front of him, relief lingering in the back of his mind because it’s almost over. _Home_ , Louis had said; he wanted Nelahna to be his home, and Harry welcomed him with open arms. Just a little longer, and everything will be different.

Pink’s presentation is first; Perrie starts off with an introduction of who they are, fidgeting with her dress under the scrutiny of leaders from across the Alliance. They settle into a rhythm, though, Jesy leading them through a discussion of potential updates to their treaties with Blue and Yellow, a proposed trade agreement with Orange. Jade and Leigh talk about what they shared during their lessons and what they learned from the others; in the blink of an eye, their presentation is over.

Orange is next, Niall, Bressie, and Amy talking about an industry technology advancement with a potential new agreement with Blue (Louis had finished the compact refrigeration unit only a few days ago, and he’d copied the blueprints so Niall could take them back to Orange for more to be made. He’d even written up a contract for Niall to use, since he’s worked in the trade industry for so long and he knows all the loopholes, which would give Louis original credit and would give Niall “discovery credit” so that he and Horan Farms, would always have a copyright claim on the units. Niall had hugged Louis for a solid minute when Louis gave the blueprints to him, saying that Louis would always have a lifetime supply of Horan strawberries whenever he wanted). Then the Gray boys get up to present, then the Red group, then Purple, then Yellow.

Only Stan, Zayn, Liam, and Niall know the extent of Louis and Harry’s plan, but the other groups know something is happening; all the presentations are short, to the point and simplified, as though no one wants to take attention away from whatever is about to happen. Harry feels a little thrill at the idea that they have so much support, but then Zayn and his group take their seats and it’s Louis’ turn.

It hadn’t been hard for him to convince Calvin to let him do the final presentation on his own; Calvin is a little bit evil, but he’s not that much of an idiot, and he knows that Louis is a better speaker and entertainer than he is. So Louis is the only one at the front of the room as he taps at his comm unit, lowering the lights with a flick of his fingers.

“I’m not going to talk about how wonderful of an experience this has been or what we talked about in our lessons, because I think that’s already been thoroughly covered,” he starts, nodding at the Pink girls sitting nearby. He taps his comm screen again and a tiny holographic blue ball appears and hovers over it, revolving slowly. “I don’t want to talk about the Academy at all, actually. I want to talk about Blue.

“We are on the cutting edge of every major scientific industry. Anything that used to be done by human hands, we have created a device, robot, or app to do it instead. We devote our days to coming up with bigger, better, and faster technology, and for the most part, we’ve succeeded.”

He spreads his fingers on his comm screen and the little blue holograph expands, expanding to show that it’s a small, life-like replica of Blue. Brown and green landforms can be seen on the surface, the blue rippling like waves to represent water.  

“Every day, we inch closer to perfection.” Louis pauses for a second, and his eyes flicker to Harry’s for the briefest second. Harry sits up straighter, ignoring the worried look Jeff sends his way. Louis continues, “Or so we thought.”

He taps his screen and the little replica of Blue changes: the green land masses turn silver, miniature trees making way for tiny skyscrapers. The blue water disappears in some areas and the newly exposed land is colonized by silver as well; in other places on the holographic globe, the water turns brown.

“We create technology every day that does the unthinkable, yet while doing so we’re killing the planet. Our water is undrinkable, our air is chemically recycled, and each day, we come a little closer to mass dehydration and the potential for global shutdown.”

“Tomlinson,” warns Simon’s voice.

“There’s a simple solution,” Louis says to the other people sitting with the Blue delegation, ignoring Simon completely. Harry assumes the one sitting next to Calvin is his mentor, Ben Winston, but there are other people as well. One of them is on the edge of his seat, his hands clasped as he watches Louis raptly. “Our Directorate has proposed alternatives to limit pollution and toxic materials from being dumped in the water supply and there are clean air laws that have been suggested as well. Since those have been denied, there’s only one other way to fix our problem.”

Louis takes a deep breath. “I propose a trade of technology and medical supplies for help with water purification with the planet Nelahna, also known as Green.”

The room erupts—every member of the Blue delegation is yelling, pointing and gesturing wildly as they howl their disapproval or demand to let Louis finish. Louis looks over at Liam, who nods before moving over and slamming his hand down on the Blue delegation's tables, shaking them violently and startling everyone into a split second of silence.

That moment of quiet is Harry’s cue: he stands, clears his throat, and announces, “As the sole Academy representative of Nelahna, I accept the trade proposal.”

If the room had erupted before, it’s nothing compared to now. Jeff and Irving both yank Harry back down in his seat by his elbows, hissing at him to be quiet. Simon is trying to push past Liam to get to Louis at the front of the room, and Calvin and Oli are already running down the stairs to get to him as well. Niall and Zayn head them off, and in that confusion Harry wrenches his arms free and leaps down the stairs. The other planet groups are in pandemonium as well—a man who looks like he must be Liam’s father is tugging him away from Simon, and the Purple and Pink girls have already been hustled from the room. Harry fights through the madness to get to Louis’ side, the both of them grasping at each other’s forearms.

“I didn’t expect it to be this bad,” Louis rushes, his eyes wide. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Harry answers frantically. “Should we just go? We can just leave-”

A hand grabs Louis’ shoulder, yanking him away from Harry. “Tomlinson,” Simon growls. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to fix things, Simon,” Louis shoots back. “It can’t continue like this, people are going to get sick or die. And we can help Green in return, they need medicine that we already have stockpiled that we could easily send.”

“I wouldn’t send them used toilet paper,” Simon sneers. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“I’m not going!” Louis says. “You can’t make me.”

“I have a contract that says otherwise,” Simon says coolly. “Rodgers!”

Calvin appears and grabs Louis’ other arm. He smiles smugly at Harry, his eyes a bit maniacal. “Have a good time with the rats back on your dirty planet, Greenie.”

“Louis!” Harry cries. Jeff and Glenne have fought their way down to him and are holding him back, their grips firm on his shoulders no matter how hard he fights.

“Harry!” Louis yells. They stretch out their hands, both struggling against the hands restraining them, but it’s too late. Simon and Calvin pull Louis from the room, and he’s gone.

☆

Louis spends the whole shuttle ride back to Blue in handcuffs. When the shuttle lands, Simon pushes him down the ramp so the whole crew and the gathered crowd, including his family, can see him stumble to the ground.

“Be at my office tomorrow morning,” he says, emotionless. He tosses the keys to Oli, who tightens the handcuffs before unlocking them, making Louis’ battered wrists ache. “If you don’t show up, you’re facing a lot more than unemployment.”

Louis tries to keep his head high as he trudges over to his mum and sisters through the silent crowd. Jay hugs him close, wrapping her arm around his waist to lead him away. Luckily, his eyes stay dry until he’s safely back home.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever even see him again,” he sobs to his mother, who rubs his back soothingly but stays quiet because really, there’s nothing she can say to make it better.

☾

“What could you possibly be thinking?” Irving asks Harry tiredly, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing good could come from what you did, just a whole lot of angry people.”

“There was no other way to get you to listen,” Harry answers obstinately. “If I’d have called you up to ask your opinion on the agreement, you would have said no without even considering it.”

“Because it’s a stupid idea!” Irving says. “We have to discuss these things first. I know you’ve been away from home for a while, but we don’t make hasty decisions here. A centuries-long war won’t stop with one quick treaty."

“We can’t afford to take our time anymore,” Harry argues. “We need medicine, and they have it. They need a way to purify their water, and we have it. That could pave the way to an end of all the troubles, but everyone is too stubborn to see it!”

“It’s not stubbornness, Harry,” Irving says sadly. “It’s a long tradition of distrust. It can’t be fixed overnight.”

Harry collapses into his mum’s arms when he gets home, exhausted and heavy with the weight of missing Louis and their failed attempt at making the galaxy a better place.

☄

Weeks pass, and there’s little news from Louis and Harry as things return slowly back to normal. Liam gets comm messages from Zayn and Niall everyday, checking up on things and wondering amongst themselves if things between the other two are okay, but there’s only been one message from Harry and two from Louis, and none of them were very reassuring.

 **_From: Harry Styles_ **  
_No, haven’t heard from him. Hoping things aren’t as bad as I think they probably are. If you hear any news, please pass it on. All the love, H .x_

 **_From: Louis Tomlinson_ **  
_Made it home , think if I keep working for Syco they’ll forgive me . Don’t really know what else to do yet._

_If you hear anything from Harry , let me know. xxx_

Liam reads the messages over and over, sends dozens in return, but Harry rarely has access to his village’s unit so it’ll be a while before he can answer, and he wouldn’t be shocked if Louis’ was confiscated.

“Liam!” his mum calls from outside. “Packages for you!”

Liam shrugs his coat back on and steps outside, waving at the postman as he jumps back on his wagon and continues on to the next house in the village. Liam’s mum is carrying two boxes, and she hands them over to him with a smile.

“This one came with a note,” she says, pointing to the larger box. She pats Liam’s cheek and leaves him to check on dinner.

He rips open the letter and grins.

_Leeeemo!!!_

_Convinced my mum to let me visit Orange and stay with Niall for a few weeks, and we decided there were some things we needed to send you. Consider this your winnings—it may have taken the full three months for those idiots to admit they were in love, but they fell for each other way back on day one. Enjoy your spoils._

_Call us when you get these!!_

_Love, Zayn xxxxxx_

_P.S. wahey mate don’t have much time just wanted to say hey and that we love ya!! be good lima!! - Ni_

Liam laughs when he opens the larger box, finding a full set of Yellowi pottery painted red and silver with tiny, detailed pictures of wolves chasing each other around the edges. He opens the second and finds one of Louis’ little inventions, that refrigeration thing he’d finished for Niall before they’d all left the Academy; Liam pushes a button and it expands so he can open it up, finding a perfectly preserved batch of Horan Farm’s finest strawberries and two bottles of their best blackberry wine.

Liam’s heart aches; he misses the boys like mad, and he can’t even imagine what it’s like for Louis and Harry, separated after they finally got to have each other. A truly awful idea unfolds in his head, and he digs his clunky old comm unit out of his pocket to place a call.

“Li!” Niall cheers happily when he picks up, his image a little faded on Liam’s comm screen. “Didja get your presents?”

“I did, Ni, thanks,” Liam laughs. “Zayn there with you?”

“‘m here, mate,” Zayn says offscreen, taking the comm unit from Niall’s hands and setting it down so Liam can see them both.

“I’ve been thinking, boys,” Liam says. “How do you two feel about a little rescue mission?”

Niall and Zayn both break into massive grins.

☆

Life is sort of miserable back on Blue.

Louis goes to work in the mornings, spends his whole day working alone while receiving instructions from Simon through his assistants, then goes directly home afterwards because he’s been told he isn’t allowed to go anywhere else.

Stan visits when he can, but there’s only so much they can do together in Louis’ little empty room without talking about everything that happened, and Louis doesn’t want to even think about it. Besides, Stan spends all his time messaging with Jade and grinning like an idiot down at his comm, and it makes Louis’ heart twist and burn when he thinks of his own comm unit, his one link to Harry locked away in Simon’s office. Even if he had it, though, he probably wouldn’t be able to hear from Harry too often, and he’d grown used to hearing his lovely deep voice everyday back at the Academy.

It’s been almost a month, and Louis aches every day to see him again.

He’s at work now, staring down at the blueprints for yet another comm unit upgrade and wishing he could just go home and crawl back in bed. He isn’t sure how long he sits and looks at the paper without blinking, just that his eyes have gone a little crossed-eyed when he’s startled back to consciousness by a knock on the door.

“Hello, mate,” Stan says in the doorway.

“Stan,” Louis whispers, surprised. “How did you get in? I’m not supposed to have visitors while I’m here.”

“Oh, I have my ways,” Stan shrugs. He winks, and his eyes flash gold.

“Zayn?” Louis breathes.

Stan (or Zayn, _fuck_ , what is _happening_?) smiles, cocking his head to the side. “Time for a little break, yeah? How about the roof?”

Louis leads the way to the elevator, watching over his shoulder the whole way for signs of Simon, or even Calvin and Oli, who’ve both been tasked with making sure Louis doesn’t do anything he’s not supposed to.

Lucky they’re both too lazy to actually do their job, then.

The moment Louis leads the way onto the rooftop of the Syco headquarters skyscraper and the door closes behind them, Stan blinks and changes into Zayn, already grinning.

“Holy fuck!” Louis yells, wrapping Zayn into a tight hug. “I’m so happy to see you! What are you doing here?"

“Rescuing you, of course,” he chuckles. “Niall will be here in just a moment.”

“Niall’s here?”

“And Liam,” Zayn adds. “We sort of like you, y’know. Kinda sucked that we knew you were unhappy.”

“It sucked being unhappy,” Louis admits. “But I’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

Niall’s head pops up over the edge of the building. “Wahey, Tommo! What’s happening?”

“I literally have no idea,” Louis laughs.

“Then it’s a good thing we do,” Niall nods seriously, beckoning them over. “Come on, we’ve got to get back to Li at the shuttle station, he’s parked illegally and he might get towed if we’re too late."

“What do you want me to…” Louis trails, then gasps as Zayn hauls himself over the building edge and into Niall’s arms. “Holy shit, no! Sorry Niall, but I don’t know if I trust you that much.”

“Come on, Lou,” Zayn urges, completely complacent like he didn’t just jump into the arms of a guy hovering in thin air next to the roof of a skyscraper. “We’re in a hurry.”

“Oh my nebula,” Louis breathes, and gingerly steps on the edge of the roof wall. “How do you want me, Ni?”

“Piggyback ride?” Niall suggests, eyes glinting. Louis gulps and hops on.

He squeezes his eyes shut as Niall air walks them back down to ground level, running a zigzag pattern in the air and adjusting his gravity control bracelet as he goes. After that terrifying experience, it’s a quick sprint to the shuttle station a few streets over, where a stressed Liam wraps Louis into a hug and ushers them quickly into his small, sporty shuttle.

“We can be at Green in six hours if we push it,” he says, settling into the driver’s seat and starting the engines. Louis’ heart races in anticipation, but then he remembers—he’s not the most welcome person on Nelahna right now, and he can’t just show up empty handed and expect to be forgiven for the mess he helped cause.

“Wait, Li,” Louis says. “We need to make one more stop first.”

☆

Six hours later, Louis’ left hand is nervously tapping on a case of stolen vaccines, his right hand drumming rhythms on his thigh. It had taken a bit of work to smuggle the medicine out of the hospital where his mum works, but with one comm message sent ahead to warn her, she was able to let Louis in through a usually-locked door and lead him straight to the medicine stockpile.

“Be careful,” she’d begged, before making him promise to call when he was safe and kissing him on the forehead to send him on his way.

The shuttle lands with a soft thump, and the other three boys are silent as the engines power down.

“Well, we’re here,” Liam says unnecessarily. Louis breathes in shakily.

“You’ve been here before, right, Li?” he asks. Liam nods. “Can you get me to the Council house?”

The smell of fresh air hits like a brick to the stomach after the stale air of the shuttle; it’s that same heavy, homey scent that had always surrounded Harry, and Louis sways with the realization that he’s here, he’s back on the same ground as Harry.

“Fuck,” he breathes, shaking his head. Zayn pats his arm, looking worried. “I’m fine, I’m okay.”

Green is (obviously) a whole other world compared to the home Louis left behind on Blue. There are no sparkling metal buildings, no comm towers or shuttles flying overhead, just trees as far as the eye can see. In some of the biggest ones there sit houses: fully formed wooden homes grown out of the trunks of the trees, rickety stairs leading from the ground to their front doors. Louis sees some curtains move as people watch them approach, their entrance anything but sneaky as the shuttle sits nearby, shiny and new in a forest of old.

“It’s that one,” Liam says, pointing forward at a building built low between the bases of two massive trees. It’s lit up from the inside, shadows moving in the windows. Louis’ hands tighten on the vaccines as they approach, crossing the threshold and entering the Council house silently.

There’s some sort of discussion happening; men and women sit in a half-circle around a low fire, voices loud and abrupt against the silent night outside. Louis’ grasp of the Yvgreen language isn’t quite good enough to catch exactly what’s being said, but he hears a few recurring words: sickness, heat, emergency. Death.

Louis clears his throat. The room goes still.

“What are you doing here?” says the older man who’d sat next to Harry at the final presentations at the Academy. Irving, Louis thinks, that’s his name. Jeff’s father, and the highest member of the Council. Louis licks his lips and steps forward, handing the box of medicine off to Liam and stepping into the light of the fire.

“ _Siyo_ ,” he says clearly, reaching up to touch two fingers to his forehead and lowering them slowly. “My name is Louis Tomlinson. I’ve brought medicine that I believe will help your people.”

“Why should we trust you, Louis Tomlinson?” Irving asks, his face impassive.

“Just because my government refuses to do the right thing does not mean that I’m going to do the same,” Louis says. “We have the resources to help, and we can share them. If we run out, we know how to make more.”

“Lou?” breathes a familiar voice behind him. Louis spins, finding Harry in the doorway silhouetted by starlight, watching him with wide, awestruck eyes.

“Harry,” Louis says, his lips twitching automatically into a smile, his shoulders turning towards the silly boy that Louis missed so much. 

“Although I hate to interrupt what will probably be a beautiful reunion,” Irving calls, “we cannot just take you at your word, Louis. Do you have any proof that this medicine will work?”

“You brought medicine?” Harry whispers in wonder. “ _Louis_.”

“I have no guarantees,” Louis answers Irving. “I don’t have anything to go by except the promise from my mother, who’s a nurse, and my best friend, who’s training to be a doctor. And I honestly can’t prove anything, but I can tell you that I could have done far more harm by staying back on Blue than risking coming here and bringing what you think is bad medicine.”

“You need a tester, Irv?” Harry asks suddenly. He’s crept forward so he’s right next to Louis, his presence a soothing warmth against Louis’ side. “I can get you one.”

“You can’t volunteer for someone, Harry,” Irving says delicately. “We’ll have to have their explicit consent.”

“That’s okay, she’ll definitely give it,” Harry smiles.

Louis leans close to whisper, “Who?”

Harry grins down at him. “My mum.”

“Harry,” Louis breathes. “You don’t have to…”

“I trust you, yeah?” Harry says, raising his voice so everyone can hear. “And if I trust you, so will she."

“This could be a bad idea, Harry,” Irving warns.

“Just because something doesn’t grow from a root in the ground or fall naturally from the sky doesn’t automatically make it bad,” Harry says. “If they have what can help us, can we really afford to turn that help down?”

☾

Louis calls his mum from Zayn’s comm when Irving asks them to step out so the Council can confer.

“Hey, Mum,” he says, tangling his fingers with Harry’s automatically, making Harry feel like his hand is burning with friendly fire.

He still can’t believe it; Louis is _here_. He’d thought that Jeff was playing some sort of awful prank when he’d come skidding into Harry’s room, gasping something about a shuttle landing and Louis and the Council house.

“Yeah, made it safe and sound,” he’s saying. Harry can’t pull his gaze away; he really wants to greet Liam and Niall and Zayn as well, but he knows they probably understand that he just _can’t_ , he couldn't pull his eyes away from Louis for anything right now. The last month has been tough, that’s all. “Actually, may need your help with something. I might have to give the vaccine to Harry’s mum to test it?” he says, tilting the end up like a question and wincing.

“I don’t want to!” he continues. “But they need proof it’ll work! Anyway, what can we expect to happen, here? How long does this take?”

He pauses, finally looking up at Harry through his lashes, like he was scared of doing before now. “Three days? Not too bad.” Harry tugs him close, lifting his chin with a single finger. “Mum…” he trails off, “I’ve… gotta go.”

He tosses Zayn his comm and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, falling into him hungrily. Harry lets him, gasping as their mouths connect again and again.

“I love you,” Harry whispers against his lips. “I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Louis sighs, yanking Harry even closer. “And I missed you so much.”

“Are you supposed to be here?” Harry asks worriedly, running his hands up and down Louis’ back. “Will they come for you?”

“I don’t know,” Louis says honestly. “As far as I know, only my mum and Stan know exactly where I am. I wouldn’t have even told Stan but he’ll probably be brought in for questioning, since Zayn face-changed into him to get into my building.”

Harry looks over at Zayn, who smiles guiltily. “I’m gonna fix it,” Zayn promises. “I just couldn’t think of anyone else who could believably be smuggling Louis out without getting us all caught.”

Harry beckons him and Niall and Liam over, wrapping them in a group hug. “I love you all,” he says tearily. “You are all the best people I’ve ever met.”

“But you love me most, right?” Louis asks where he’s being squished against Harry’s chest by Liam.

Harry laughs, his heart light for the first time in a month. “I love you more than anything, _usdi noqsi_." **  
**

☆

They give Harry’s mum the medicine the very next day. Luckily, they don’t make Louis administer it; Harry’s friend Ed, who is actually trained in healing, is the one who gives Anne the first dose. She looks tired but tough, her eyes bright as she pulls Louis into a hug and thanks him for everything he’s done.

“It was nothing,” he promises, but she tuts.

“That’s not what I heard. But I guess you’re right—from what Harry tells me, our people will be your people soon enough, eh? Harry’s talked about nothing else except getting a house ready for when he could steal you away and bring you home—”

Harry claps his hand over Anne’s mouth. “She’s lying!” he swears, though he’s laughing. “She’s delusional, it’s the drugs!”

“Harry Styles,” Louis laughs delightedly. “Did you build us a love nest?”

Harry blushes and Anne grins wickedly behind his hand. “Maybe.”

They don’t actually get to stay at the love nest, because they spend their days helping Anne with her physical therapy after months of being confined to a bed and checking in on the other patients, working as extra sets of hands whenever needed. But by the third day of Anne’s treatment, she’s able to walk around on her own and her skin has lost its yellow pallor. The rest of Louis’ supply of medicine is administered quickly, and soon the capital city is bustling with life again, numerous people stopping Harry and Louis as Harry shows him the sights to thank Louis for what he’s done. Harry can’t stop smiling.

And, well. They can’t really stop doing other things, either.

“I love you,” Harry moans when Louis gets him alone for the first time, opening Harry up with quick fingers and burying himself deep. “ _Fuck_ , Louis, love you so much.”

“ _Let me stay forever_ ,” Louis murmurs into his ear in Yvgreen.

“Forever,” Harry agrees, nodding wildly. Two more thrusts and he’s coming, eyes rolling and toes curling.

Zayn, Liam, Niall, and Ed catch Harry and Louis in the act so many times over the next week that they start walking into rooms with their hands over their eyes so they don’t have to see. Harry doesn’t care; his heart’s full to bursting with sunshine and love for Louis and most of the time he just can’t contain it.

The small supply of the vaccine does run out eventually, though, and the capital isn’t the only place suffering, so Louis and Liam start planning a trip back to Blue to get more.

“Shouldn’t take longer than a day,” Louis promises Irving before they ship out, about two weeks after Louis had landed on Nelahna for the first time. Irv, who’s grown to trust Louis almost as quickly as Harry had, claps him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about us, we can last another day if we need to,” he says. “You just worry about staying out of trouble, and keep this one safe too,” he adds, pointing his thumb at Harry, who pouts.

“Hey,” he says. “I can be covert and sneaky.”

Louis and Irving both laugh, then Louis is hustling Harry onto the shuttle so they can hurry up and get back. (There was no way Harry _wasn’t_ going to go with Louis and the boys on a super secret, super dangerous mission to Louis’ home planet, where at least four people hate Louis enough to threaten him with terrorism charges. Niall is the backup, so Harry is the backup’s backup. He doesn’t feel very useful, but at least he’ll be there.)

They go over the plan dozens of times on the way back to Blue, even though it’s not very complicated: Louis and Zayn, disguised as nurses, will sneak into the hospital where Louis’ mum will leave a back door unlocked for them to sneak in. Liam will circle the shuttle above the hospital for a few minutes to give them time to find the medicine supply, then land outside the same back door so they don’t have to carry their haul a long way. Louis will also be grabbing a microscope and a simple chemistry kit his mum left him so that he can try and replicate the vaccine without having to risk another trip to Blue to steal more.

When they aren’t talking over the plan, Louis is snuggled in Harry’s lap, sharing whispered stories about their awful month apart.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers, tracing the birds on Harry’s chest through his shirt. “Every day, every minute. It was awful.”

“Same for me,” Harry says, sounding like a promise. “Ed kept asking why I was growing us a house when you weren’t going to be able to get away, and I never really had a reason beyond that I knew that you _would_ come home, I just didn’t know when. Or how.”

“I love you,” Louis breathes, then kisses him fiercely.

“I’m going to shove you both out into space,” Niall yells from the seat next to Liam.

Louis and Harry break apart, giggling. It’s the last spark of joy before they have to get serious, the shuttle jumping a little as they enter Blue’s atmosphere.

☆

The hospital is right next to Syco’s headquarters, and Louis shivers as he looks up at the familiar building looming over him and Zayn.

“C’mon, Lou,” Zayn urges, tugging Louis along behind him. They’re already in their nurse outfits, pilfered from Jay’s wardrobe back at the Tomlinson living quarters. They blend right in with the rest of the tired-eyed hospital staff, up far too late and working far too hard at almost three o’clock in the morning. Louis and Zayn slip through the door Jay had unlocked for them and find themselves exactly where they’d wanted to be in the medical storage space.

They locate the vaccine easily enough, loading up with armfuls of long square containers. Louis spots the chemistry set and piles that on top of his haul, struggling a little when he gets to the door.

Luckily, it opens for him.

Unluckily, it’s Calvin standing on the other side of the door.

“Well well well,” he says, grinning widely. “What have we here?”

☾

“It’s been too long,” Harry frets, his hand tapping against his leg as he looks out the shuttle window for any sign of Louis or Zayn. “They should be here by now. Something’s happened.”

“They’re probably fine, Harry,” Liam promises, though he looks worried as well.

“We need to go find them,” Harry says. He turns to face Niall, whose lips are bitten raw from nerves. “Ni, come on. We have to.”

It doesn’t take much to convince him, and then Liam follows both of them off the shuttle out of sheer sense of duty.

The gut feeling that had bothered Harry was right; they follow the path to the medicine storage and the door is wide open, signs of a scuffle evident inside. Harry’s stomach flips.

“Ni, what do we—”

“Heard there was a rat sneaking about,” an abrasive voice says behind him. Harry spins, finding Oli and Calvin grinning at him, Oli behind Niall with his hands over Niall's mouth, Calvin grinning at Harry and pointing a lethal-looking weapon right at Liam, who looks furious. “Didn't think we'd catch one this big. Up you go, Greenie. We’ll reunite you with the little traitor soon enough.”  

☆

Since this is apparently a bad action film, Louis and Zayn are put in a locked room to stew for a little while, some nameless hunk of muscle standing guard at the door so they don’t escape.

“Could you face-change into Liam and beat the shit out of that guy?” Louis whispers. Zayn shakes his head.

“I’d get his appearance, not his powers.”

They sit in silence for a little longer before Calvin reappears, the smirk on his face almost nauseatingly wide.

“Time to see the boss,” he says, rubbing his hands together in glee. “It's about time you get your due, Tomlinson.”

Calvin and the bodyguard march Louis and Zayn out of the hospital and through the silent halls of Syco, the elevator ride up to the top floor almost enough to have Louis heaving out of panic. His palms are sweating and he feels a little faint; he can handle getting himself out of trouble, he's done it before. But Zayn doesn't deserve to get dragged into his problems, and Louis doesn't know if he can protect them both.

The lift door opens and there stands Simon, leaned back across his desk like an emperor on his throne. Louis' stomach roils at the sight.

“Hello again, Louis,” he says grimly. “You almost got away with it, didn’t you? I was going to let you stay on that horrid little planet and rot away from some swamp disease or animal bite, but for some unfathomable reason you came back, and you brought the boyfriend with you.”

Louis’ breath scrapes to a halt in his throat when he looks over to where Simon is pointing and finds Harry, Liam, and Niall staring back, gagged and tied up against the wall. Louis feels a rush of anger so deep it makes him surge forward.

“Let them go,” he says harshly. “They have nothing to do with this. Let them _go_ , Simon.”

“Nothing to do with this, you say?” Simon says mockingly. “Interesting, because I see four accomplices to robbery and treason. We could get your friend Stan as well, since we have him on camera with you before you disappeared, and why not your lovely mum as well? We have video of her, too, unlocking all sorts of doors and leaving little things behind for you to take with you. Your little sister might have to quit the Institute to look after the others, since your mum would be in prison. And what a shame, she's got talent—I was going to recruit little Lottie to come work at Syco next, too, but not anymore.”

Louis stays silent, jaw working.

“I let you off easy last time, Louis,” Simon says, and his voice is reasonable even if his words are not. “I let you continue with your job even though you humiliated all of us in that disaster of a presentation back at the Academy, and how do you repay me? By stealing valuable supplies and handing them out to the savages.”

“Don't call them that,” Louis spits.

“It's true, is it not?” Simon asks carelessly, buffing his fingernails against his suit. “I've heard they live in the wilderness with the animals, is that right? You've been there, you know how awful it is. Well, doesn't matter now; you'll be here for a long time, what with the life imprisonment and all. At least you'll have your little friends with you in prison—in fact, you can start practicing now. Rodgers? Take these five down to the cells in the basement.”

“Don't do this, Simon!” Louis yells as Calvin shoves him toward the door. “It doesn't have to be this way!”

Oli has Zayn gripped tight by the forearm, pulling him along as Zayn struggles against the hold. Two of Simon’s bodyguards are hauling the other three to their feet; one is trying to contain a wildly thrashing Harry and Niall, Harry trying to shoot vines out of his hand and at the bodyguard but missing, Niall twisting his arms violently to get out of the hold and to try to get to his gravity control bracelet. The other bodyguard is trying to restrain Liam, who, even with his arms bound, is shoving and shouldering the bodyguard away.

In the midst of all the confusion, the elevator door dings with a new arrival.

The doors part, and there stands a vaguely familiar guy with too-big hair and a knowing smile.

“Uh, I'm a bit busy,” Simon says, his voice strained even though he hasn't moved a muscle.

“Too right you are,” the man says cheerfully. “Simon Cowell, I'm placing you under arrest for acts of terrorism against another planet and illegal weapon manufacturing.”

If it was pandemonium before, it’s stillness now; Simon’s eyes narrowing is the only movement in the room.

“You don’t have the authority to do that.”

“No,” the man shrugs, still grinning. “But they do.” He thumbs over his shoulder, and out of the elevator pours six officers who calmly and efficiently lock Simon, Calvin, Oli, and the bodyguards into handcuffs. The man looks gleeful as Simon is bundled into the elevator, who rolls his eyes as Oli bursts into tears and Calvin starts shrieking about police brutality. “And we’re going for Winston next, so at least you won’t be lonely!”

Louis hadn't lived a very long life, but he knows the sight of Simon, Calvin, and Oli being led out of Syco in handcuffs will be one of the greatest things he'll ever see. The man who'd led the arrests sticks out his hand when they're gone, grinning widely.

“Nick Grimshaw,” he says. “We met back at the Academy, but you may have been too nervous to remember, what with planning a revolution and all. I'm a big fan.”

“You're the one from the clean water and air bills!” Louis says, lighting up in recognition. Nick grins.

“Why yes, that I am. Also, as of this moment, de facto leader of the Blue Directorate,” he says.

“I didn’t know the Directorate had a leader,” Louis says.

“It does now. Your presentation back at the Academy was being broadcast on national television, did you know? It’s a new initiative to get students involved in the government by showing them cool things they get to do, whatever,” he waves his hands. “Anyway, everyone saw your speech and the way Simon reacted, and that got people’s attention because, well, he wouldn’t react like that if there wasn’t something to hide. And since we’ve been on water ration for months, turning down help seemed suspicious. So an emergency Directorate meeting was held, and I was asked to step in until some official action can be taken.”

“That’s fantastic,” Louis says. “Congrats, mate. And thanks, as well.”

“Well, we knew Simon was up to something for a while, but we never had any solid proof. But now we do,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “But yeah, I’m really excited to start moving forward on some new policies and—”

“Lou,” Harry interrupts, pushing into Louis’ space and cupping Louis’ face. “Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, Haz, I’m fine,” Louis says, gripping at Harry’s elbows. “And you, you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Harry promises. “I was so worried. I thought—”

“I know, love, we’re okay,” Louis says, and then Harry is kissing him deeply, tilting his head and pressing until he has Louis’ back against the wall. Louis flings his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him tight.

“Erm,” says Nick behind them. “Right.”

There’s a clapping sound, and Grimshaw stumbles forward a little bit like he’s received one of Liam’s enthusiastic taps to the shoulder. “Yeah, they do that a lot.”

“Right,” Nick says again. “Well.”

“Wait a second,” Louis says, pulling away from Harry’s lips (ignoring Harry’s affronted little noise) and looking over his shoulder at Nick once more. “What’s happening to Syco? Is it closing?”

“Well, I was going to let you know the news but I figured I’d let you, um. Finish,” Nick says, fluttering his fingers at where Harry’s still holding Louis tightly by the hips. “But no, Syco isn’t closing. It would collapse the economy, we can’t afford it.”

“So who’s going to run it? There’s no board or anything.”

“Well, we have a couple of options,” Nick says lightly. “The first is, of course, you.”

“Me?” Louis squeaks. Harry finally stops trying to coerce him into picking up where they left off and turns to look at Nick as well, his eyes wide. “But I don’t, I can’t—”

“You were top of your class at the Institute, have over five years of experience working for the company, and you showed initiative and creativity, as well as humility, in suggesting the treaty with Green,” Nick says smoothly. “Many higher-ups of Syco will also be facing jail time along with Simon, and we didn’t want to hand the position to someone who will just continue in Simon’s footsteps.”

Louis is stunned. Running Syco, the biggest tech company in the galaxy? He’s only twenty, and he’d be the most powerful person on the planet, at the very least.

He looks up at Harry, Harry looks back.

“I can’t,” Louis says finally, turning back to Nick. “I have a promise to keep back on Green.”

Harry lets out a little breath like he was worried Louis might say yes, grasping Louis’ hand tightly and clearly trying not to smile.

“Are you sure?” Nick asks, raising one eyebrow. “Limited time offer, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Louis says firmly. “It’s not the right place for me.”

“Well, luckily we have a backup,” Nick grins. The elevator door dings open for the third time.

“Lottie?” Louis gasps. His sister grins wickedly before wrapping him in a massive hug.

“Wasn’t that dramatic?” she says, laughing. “I planned that so well.”

“My baby sister is taking over Syco?” Louis asks, not sure whether he’s terrified or delighted, feeling a mixture of both fight for dominance in his smile.

“She is also top of her class at the Institute, has had quality work experience, and,” Nick grins, “she would have an in with the Blue ambassador to Green, which I heard somewhere might be a brand new market."

“And as my first act as head of Syco,” Lottie says imperiously, flipping her hair behind her shoulder, “I’m dissolving your contract with us. You’re a free man, Lou.”

Lottie shrieks when Louis presses a loud, smacking kiss to her forehead.

“That will all be formalized later,” Nick says, smiling. “But until then, I think you’ve got a delivery to make?”

☆

The shuttle touches down on Green and Louis is the first one out, his boots sinking into the soft soil, the heavy, rich scent of pine sap and morning dew wrapping around him like a blanket.

He hoists the yellow fever vaccine up a little higher on his hip, taking it all in. Harry steps up next to him and laces their fingers together, Liam, Niall, and Zayn behind them.

“Welcome home, Lou,” Harry whispers.

Home.

 **  
**  
  


☾☆

“How can this place seem so much smaller?” Louis asks wonderingly, running his hands along the wall of the old Academy common room. It’s the same place, the same sofas and chairs they’d sprawled across night after night two years ago; it’s the same table Louis had sat at to tinker with his projects while Liam joked with Eleanor and Jesy, while Niall clambered his way into Zayn’s lap, while Harry wrote in his journal. There’s the little spot of red on the floor where Perrie spilled her nail polish that one time, there’s the long wall where all the dresses and suits had been hung up before the farewell ball.

The room is the same, but everything else is different.

“Well, it’s not because you’ve gotten taller,” Niall jokes, dodging Louis’ swat out of second nature. Zayn giggles, throwing his arm around Niall’s shoulders.

“Can’t believe we’re back,” Liam says, sounding a little awestruck.

Louis is about to answer when warm, strong arms wrap around his waist. He leans back into Harry easily, his touch familiar.

It’s the first day for a whole new group of delegates at the Academy. Louis had watched them disembark from their shuttles earlier, little pockets of people in distinctive colors giggling and bouncing excitedly as the newly-named Academy directors Eleanor and Leigh-Anne herded them away from the shuttle dock and to their rooms for the next three months. (Hackford and Jones were sacked the moment the delegates left the Academy for their home planets two years ago. As it turns out, there had been complaints against them for years, but the Alliance members had to wait for their contracts to end before they could give them the boot.)

Zayn’s comm unit beeps, and he swipes his finger over the screen. “Perrie and Jesy are just now landing. Jade and Stan are on the way, and Sophia’s held up in traffic, but she’ll get here later.”

“The gang’s all back,” Harry murmurs.

“All thanks to you, eh, Hazza?” Niall says, elbowing him playfully.

Harry, after helping Louis distribute vaccines and medicine worldwide on Green, had contacted the Alliance and, after they’d heard his proposal, began immediate work on a brand new exchange program for Academy delegates. Once the three months are over at the Academy are over, delegates who were interested could visit the planets of the friends they’d met there. The Academy class from two years ago had all been willing to work as the planet guides when Harry had contacted them (except Calvin and Oli, who are still serving out their life sentences in a Blue jail). They’re all back at the Academy introducing it tonight, and Harry’s been jittery and jumpy since they left home.

“It’s gonna go great, love,” Louis promises, rubbing his hand over Harry’s forearm.

“It’s brilliant,” Zayn adds. “It’s gonna go over so well, promise.”

Harry scoffs, but he’s smiling. “You have to say that, you helped put it together.”

Zayn shrugs. “I wouldn’t claim it if it was a dumb idea.”

“Niall’s right, it’s a great idea,” Liam pipes in. “If they’d offered me a chance to live on other planets for a few months, I’d have said yes in a heartbeat.”

“C’mon, Hazza,” Louis says, “let’s go get changed for dinner.” He nods at the other three boys. “See you in a few.”

Since they aren’t delegates anymore, Harry and Louis and the rest of their friends are staying on a different floor instead of the old living quarters where they’d stayed two years ago. It’s not too different: Harry’s grown another laurel tree to guard the door, and this time they don’t have to worry about sneaking around Jeff or Calvin if they want to have loud sex to break in their couch (which they did. Three times already).

Louis dresses quickly in his usual mix of styles from Green and Blue: he’s got on black jeans, a slouchy sweater, and his trusty thigh holster to hold his comm unit. Harry’s in one of his classic silky shirts and tight, tight jeans, deerskin boots on his feet.

Louis leans up on his tiptoes before they leave their rooms, pressing a long kiss to Harry’s lips. “Can you believe it’s been two years?” he asks.

Harry grips his hips and ducks down, kissing him again. “Best two years of my life,” he says earnestly, thumbing the compass tattoo now staining Louis’ forearm. Louis rubs his palm over the matching ship on Harry’s bicep, his thumb fitting naturally into the dip of Harry’s muscle.

Louis had left home two years ago thinking he’d have three months of fun before settling into a life of working for Simon, the threat of being arrested for terrorist acts hanging over his head to keep him complacent. He thought he’d meet someone nice back on Blue, settle into some bland, color-leached living quarters, work until he couldn’t anymore, then he’d retire.

Instead, he’d met new friends that opened his eyes and showed him how wide the galaxy really is. He’s traveled all over visiting his friends from other planets, rather than helping build things to destroy them. He was best man at Stan and Jade’s wedding, and he and Harry will both be best men at Zayn and Niall’s in a few months (with Liam standing for Zayn and Bressie on Niall’s side as well). It’s rare when he and Harry are back on Green and they don’t have visitors; Niall and Zayn and Liam are at their house more often than their own. The Academy gave him that.

But, more than that, the Academy gave him a chance to meet the beautiful boy looking at Louis now like he’s made of starlight, with Louis looking right back like Harry stole the colors of the Nebula and hid them in his eyes. He’s got a new life on Green, friends and new family and a seat on the Council right next to Harry. He’s technically an ambassador from Blue, so he goes home to see his mum and sisters often and make sure Grimshaw hasn’t run the place into the ground. He’s been able to introduce a whole planet to the kinds of technology that makes their lives easier and, between that and the deliverance of the vaccines that cured half the planet, he’s been welcomed with open arms.

He’s got a suit made of stars hanging in the back of his closet, awaiting his own wedding day set for the week after they get back from the Academy. He’s got tattoos on his skin and a silver engagement ring on his finger. He’s got a home of his own, the most advanced treehouse on the whole planet, formed and grown by Harry out of cedar trees, Heavenly Blue morning glories growing up the walls.  
**  
** He’s got Harry. And in the whole wide galaxy, that’s all he really needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Blue - Komenstelle = German  
> Green - Nelahna = Cherokee  
> Yellow - Jagaadeeli = Pakistani/Urdu  
> Red - Staðrmegin = Old Norse  
> Orange - Áitaeir = Irish Gaelic
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: It was pointed out to me that Harry's use of Native American cultural aspects and language could be seen as appropriation. That was **not** my intention in any way. I am a member of the Cherokee tribe, and I saw this fic and the ideas of different real cultures as separate planets as a way of showing the process of multiculturalism and forward progress in regards to racial/ethnic stereotypes. I also saw it as a way to introduce my own culture into a fandom that otherwise would never see it, as I believe representation is wildly important across all forms of media, fan-generated included. If you have any concerns or questions about the cultural aspects in this story, please leave a comment and let me know.
> 
>  
> 
> The tumblr post for the fic is [here](http://alivingfire.tumblr.com/post/140273069721). 
> 
>  
> 
> Original prompt: Harry is from Green, Louis is from Blue. Their planets aren't supposed to affiliate, but they find a way. Aliens. Or whatever. Go weird with this one.


End file.
